


Collected

by ZBangbangbang



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Caring Murphy (Z Nation), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt 10K (Z Nation), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Assault, Virgin 10K (Z Nation), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZBangbangbang/pseuds/ZBangbangbang
Summary: A twisted alternate outcome for the episode 'The Collector' in which 10K and Murphy find themselves the captives of a deranged psychopath. 10K might not hate Murphy as much as he thought, and Murphy learns he wants 10K to be alright. Warning: sexual predator, underage. Contains sexual assault (no rape.)
Relationships: 10K & Doc (Z Nation), 10K/Murphy (Z Nation)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 94





	1. Prisoners

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Z Nation or any of its characters. I do own the plot of this story.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

10K held his rifle tightly against his chest and crossed the street in a crouching run, his eyes sweeping his surroundings. The center of town was upscale, with brick shops lining the roadway and houses of ornate design between them. Many of them stood with very little damage, and the street wasn't covered in the usual dirt and debris 10K had come to expect; it was almost like the town had avoided the apocalypse that had stricken the rest of the world.

But there was no sign of Murphy.

A hundred yards away a zombie staggered along the sidewalk. 10K's head turned sharply and he paused in the shadow of a bank, but the zombie was too far away to notice him, so he hugged the side of the building and continued to make his way north up main street. He stayed as quiet as he could.

He paused again when the sound of more shuffling feet reached him from ahead. On the other side of the street, a zombie made a beeline for the front steps of a large brick building. It tripped up the front steps and began clawing at the glass pane of the front door, growling and gurgling and flailing its arms. With a sigh of exasperation, 10K ran back across the road as silently as a mouse and raised the butt of his rifle, approaching the distracted zombie from behind.

He jogged up the stairs in two quick steps. Before the zombie had a chance to notice him, 10K delivered a sharp blow to the back of its head with his rifle, cracking its skull. The zombie collapsed sideways and rolled down the stairs, coming to a stop on the sidewalk.

10K watched it for a moment to make sure it lay still, then looked up through the glass, shielding his eyes.

To his great astonishment he caught sight of a man on the other side of the door. The man was sitting halfway up a giant staircase in the front hall, dressed in thick layers of protection and a lot of DIY zombie armor. He had seen 10K and was standing slowly, moving one hand behind his back.

10K watched cautiously as the man stepped smoothly down the stairs and toward the door.

"Yes?" Demanded the man abruptly, frowning at 10K through the glass. It looked like there was a fresh bruise forming on the stranger's left temple.

10K found his voice. "I'm looking for a friend," he said carefully. 

"Haven't seen anybody," said the man with a shake of his head. He eyed 10K beadily with one hand still behind his back.

10K fixed the stranger with a searching look, then halfway turned to leave. But he paused and turned back. "He's a tall guy..." He pressed, glancing briefly to the new bruise on the man's head. "Kind of weird, bluish skin?"

"Bluish fella?" The man repeated in a would-be-casual way. "Is he ill?"

10K exhaled impatiently and swept the surrounding street with his eyes, before fixing the man with another searching stare. "Is there anyone else in this town?"

The man slowly shook his head. "Nobody."

"Anywhere else my friend might've gone?"

"Sorry..." replied the man, oddly detached. He was watching 10K with a very strange expression on his face. "Good luck..."

10K stared at him for a moment longer, studying his posture. Then he gave a short nod and backed away, turning to trot down the stairs. He jogged around the corner of the building, out of sight of the front door.

There beside a row of green hedges, he stopped again. He frowned, thinking fast. Something was wrong here... something was off, and he needed to find out what it was. It might have something to do with Murphy.

10K shrugged his rifle off his shoulder and leaned it up against the outside of the brick wall. He drew a handgun from his belt and took off around the side of the building into a narrow alleyway, searching for another way in.

Soon he found a side door. After discovering it was locked, he dug a small pin out of his pocket and set to work picking it. In a few short moments he heard the familiar click of the tumblers falling into place, and the door swung inward. 10K slipped inside, leaving the door cracked open behind him.

He entered silently into a large, expansive hallway lined on both sides by tables of books and brochures. Posters of zombie movies 10K had never seen decorated the walls, and life-like zombie manikins were propped against both walls. There was a wide staircase on the other side of the hall, which 10K approached, his gun aimed firmly before him as he went.

He took the stairs two at a time. He passed the landing between floors and continued up to the next level. When he reached the top of the stairs he made his way toward the only light he could see, which shone out from under a closed door in the semi-darkness. 

10K tested the handle and found it unlocked. He pushed through it and came to another hallway, smaller and more cramped, and crowded by metal shelves piled with stuffed foxes and other dead wildlife. 

"Murphy?" Hissed 10K into the musty air, but there was no response.

There was another staircase ahead and 10K made his way up it, keeping his eyes sharp and his gun level. At the top of the stairwell there was another unlocked door. He twisted the handle carefully and pushed it open.

The smell of zombies struck him forcefully and his nose wrinkled unpleasantly. He moved slowly into the room, staring around him as he went. The room was flooded by red light and the air was filled with layers of shifting smoke that seemed to part in waves as he moved further in.

A sudden movement to his right sent off alarm bells in his head and he swung his gun sideways. But he didn't pull the trigger. A zombie stood on a nearby platform in front of a gray backboard. The zombie lunged toward 10K again but something stopped it... there was a harsh buzzing sound and the zombie fell back. Something was keeping it on the platform despite its efforts.

10K lowered his gun a few inches and looked further down the line. Other zombies stood on similar little stages, some with plaques in front of them, and some in front of bright, eye-catching posters. None of them seemed able to step down off their platforms.

10K's frown of confusion grew. He took a few more steps and his eyes fell on the platform at the end of the aisle. A large, throne-like metal chair reflected the gleaming red light of the room, and it caught 10K's attention. Then he saw what sat in the chair, and he felt his pulse quicken.

Ahead of 10K, slumped in the large chair and secured by white bands around his middle, was Murphy himself. The man looked unconscious and his head rested against the high back of the chair. His arms were bound to the arms of the chair, his palms facing upward, and there was medical equipment attached to them... what looked like IV tubes and needles.

"Murphy?" Breathed 10K as he strode forward. "You okay?"

But Murphy barely reacted. His eyes opened a little; only a little.

As 10K reached the base of the platform he noticed a sign pinned to a post in front of Murphy. Someone had written 'The Murphy' in large letters and nailed it down. "What is this?" Asked 10K, utterly bewildered.

Murphy's eyes opened a little wider. 10K stared at him and Murphy stared back. After a moment Murphy's mouth opened as though he was trying to speak, and 10K stepped closer to hear him, but Murphy made no sound. 

Just then, the back of 10K's neck prickled uncomfortably and he whirled around. He didn't have time to raise his gun before a dark metal rod thrust into his stomach and a jolt of electricity surged through his body. He yelled out, dropping his gun as he fell, and everything went black before he hit the floor.

10K's return to consciousness was slow. As he opened his eyes he blinked painfully, blinded by the brightness of the shining red lights. He couldn't remember where he was at first, or why, but he managed to turn over so he could see the room. 

When he saw the zombie platforms extending to the opposite wall his memories came flooding back to him. With a sharp breath he struggled to sit up the rest of the way, staring around for Murphy.

Murphy was still bound to the tall chair on the high platform. Bags of blood attached to poles were attached to thin tubes in his arms, and Murphy's eyes were open.

"You bleed slowly," said a nearby voice, making 10K crick his neck to see. The man he had spoken to earlier through the door wheeled himself playfully into 10K's vision, his beady eyes fixed on Murphy. "Anyone ever tell you that before?"

"Yes..." Growled Murphy weakly, staring back at their captor. 

The other man looked amused. "Well look who's Mr. Agreeable all of a sudden," he said, leering. He wheeled himself closer to Murphy's platform and bent down out of his chair to retrieve something off the floor. It was a large poster board. Something had been written in large, glittering letters but 10K couldn't see what it was.

He wouldn't have to wonder for long.

"The Murphy," crowed the man with more than a hint of glee. "And his amazing zombie boy!"

Murphy's eyes closed and his jaw twitched. 

"I want to see what happens when you bite a human. Quit lying to me and SHOW ME." The man's glittering eyes flickered down to 10K.

When 10K realized what he meant, the last fog of the electrocution left him and all color drained from his face. "Murphy - " He croaked, his throat dry. "You don't have to do this - "

"Yeah he does," interrupted the other man sharply. 

10K's heart hammered in his chest. "Do not let him turn me into one of those things!" 

But the man looked delighted. "One of what things?" He demanded eagerly.

"I don't know what he's talking about," said Murphy in a low voice, and both 10K and the stranger turned their eyes to him.

The stranger raised one hand, holding a small black device. With a sneer he pressed a button, and electricity surged through 10K like a bolt of lightning. 10K let out a pained shout and reached up to grab onto the collar around his neck. He clawed at it, trying to loosen it, but he couldn't get it off and it continued to seize him with a barrage of high voltage. 

A moment later the electricity stopped, and 10K was able to breathe again. He sucked in deep lungfuls of air, struggling back to his elbows on the floor.

The stranger held out the small device in a clear warning toward Murphy, who seemed to have gotten it too. Murphy looked like he was about to be sick and his breaths came in short bursts. 

"Patronize me again and you will limp for the rest of your undead life!" Barked the stranger, and suddenly there was a handgun in the man's other hand.

It was 10K's gun.

That son of a bitch...

"I'm too weak..." Breathed Murphy angrily, clasping his hands into fists against the arms of the chair. 

Without warning the stranger aimed 10K's gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. 10K tried not to flinch at the loud report that echoed sharply through the room. He stared around in search of anything he could use as a weapon, but there was nothing within reach.

"That was just a warning shot," said the stranger in a slightly calmer voice. His eyes roved purposefully between Murphy and 10K.

10K felt a flood of desperation. He couldn't let himself be turned into a freak... He wouldn't be like Cassandra... "Just kill me," he pleaded with one hand still gripping his collar. "Just shoot me in the head!"

But the man seemed to ignore 10K's pleas. He stared down at 10K with an expression of cold amusement. "I want to see what happens," he repeated smoothly, "When Mr. Half-Zombie Man bites a living, breathing human. And it's going to happen now..." He turned his glare on Murphy. "Or I'm going to start putting holes in people!"

With that, the man ascended the stairs to Murphy's platform and moved behind the large chair, out of sight. After a second Murphy's bindings came loose, and the man reappeared. 

10K climbed shakily to his feet as Murphy slowly stood. 

Under the stranger's watchful eye, Murphy moved to the stairs and stepped down off the platform. "There's nothing to fear," said Murphy quietly, fixing 10K with a heavy stare. 

"I don't fear you," said 10K with a waver in his voice. "I hate you. If you're the key to mankind's survival we should all just go to hell."

Murphy stopped approaching. "Finally... something we agree on." He stared at 10K, and 10K stared back. Neither of them moved.

Then their moment of indecision was cut short by another brief surge of electricity. Murphy and 10K stiffened, grunting in pain, and stumbled a few steps away from each other. 

"I'm working here!" Growled Murphy, casting an angry glare over his shoulder at the stranger, who held up the remote device threateningly. Murphy straightened up and turned back to look at 10K. "It won't be that bad..."

10K's fingers curled into fists at his sides. "What you did to Cassandra was worse than death," he said with a tremor, shifting his weight as Murphy drew nearer. 

"Just let it happen, kid," said Murphy reluctantly, his brows drawn together. He was only a step away. "You won't be afraid anymore..."

10K stared at him with widened eyes. He wanted to run, but his pride told him to stand his ground. A split second later he was hit with another violent jolt of electricity which radiated from the collar around his neck. He choked out a cry and collapsed to the floor on his back, his muscles seizing. 

Murphy stepped over 10K and knelt beside him, then swung a leg over his hips and straddled him to keep him still. He grabbed a fistful of 10K's shirt and pushed down on him from above until the electricity stopped and 10K went limp. 

Without breaking eye contact, Murphy bent so low over the boy that 10K could smell the sweat on his neck. 

"No, please - Murphy, don't!" Shouted 10K, struggling in earnest. He grabbed on Murphy's wrists and tried to pry them from his shirt, but he couldn't budge the much larger man. Murphy's face loomed above him.

"Don't bite him on the face!" The stranger's barked order caused Murphy to stop and look back over his shoulder. "Don't bite him on the face."

"I'm tired," growled Murphy under his breath. "You took all my blood."

"Bite him on the chest..." The stranger's face broke into a chilling smile. "Just like yours."

Murphy looked back down at 10K. There was something very heavy about his gaze. "It'll all be over in a second," he said quietly.

10K's fingers pulled on Murphy's wrists to no avail as Murphy bent low over 10K's chest. 10K felt teeth press against his skin through the fabric of his shirt.

"No - no, no!" Gasped 10K with a burst of adrenaline, struggling for all he was worth. He turned his face to the side, away from Murphy, his eyes squeezed shut.

But Murphy hesitated.

10K didn't feel the sharp sting of broken flesh. Murphy wasn't biting him. And suddenly to 10K's enormous relief, Murphy lifted his head and craned his neck to look back at their captor. "Is this what you want?" Murphy's voice sounded low and dangerous.

"Yes!" Laughed the man excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. "Show me what it feels like to be a zombie!"

Murphy glared at him for a moment more. "Done," he snarled suddenly, and pounded his fist on the floor beside 10K's head. 

At the sound of Murphy's fist hitting the floorboards there was an echoing chorus of snarls. A group of liberated zombies lunged toward the stranger from behind, and the stranger fell to the floor beneath their writhing masses.

10K stopped his struggles as he saw the scene unfold. Murphy let go of 10K's shirt and stood, reaching a hand down toward him.

10K took Murphy's hand and allowed himself to be yanked to his feet.

A ferocious yell sounded from the midst of the pile of zombies. The next moment the stranger appeared, swinging a steel-ended weapon and clearing a path for himself. He jabbed his pike into the skull of one zombie, then a second one, and used his foot to shove a third zombie backward to the floor. He piked that zombie where it lay and yanked his weapon out of its skull, swinging it around to crash through the eye socket of a fourth zombie, killing it instantly. 

Murphy jumped forward to enter the fight, but he had waited a split-second too long.

As the stranger piked a fifth zombie his free hand rose to point directly at Murphy. Electricity flooded both captives, sending them staggering backward under the force of the voltage. 10K tried to keep his feet under him but he found himself flat on the floor again, and the electricity did not relent.

10K thrashed from side to side, unable to draw a breath, only barely aware that Murphy was on the floor beside him. The electricity ceased abruptly and it left both captives trembling weakly, hands on their collars. 

"That was very stupid," came the cool voice of the stranger. "Very, very stupid..."

10K drew in gasping breaths, gripping the black collar around his neck. His vision swam but even so, he tried to raise himself onto his elbows, and looked sideways. 

Murphy lay on his back without moving, his eyes closed. 

"Murphy..." panted 10K. He reached a shaking hand to grip Murphy's shoulder and gave him a weak push. "Murphy?"

"He just needs a minute," said the stranger quietly. There was a sinister calm in his tone. He moved to 10K's feet and stood above him, his eyes glinting. "I did take all his blood, to be fair..." 

"We - we have friends that are looking for us," ground out 10K from between his teeth. His body felt like it was on fire. "They'll find us - "

"No they won't," said the stranger, deadly calm. "I have plans for you both, and no one's getting in my way."

"They heard that gunshot! They'll search every house until they get to this one..."

The man looked disconcerted for a moment. "Hm... maybe you're right," he said with a strange smirk. His eyes bore into 10K's and his smirk widened. "Fortunately I know just where to put you."


	2. Unthinkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Murphy and 10K come face to face with the grim reality of their new circumstances.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

10K and Murphy walked forward down the hall at gunpoint. Their captor wielded his electric device in front of him, and gestured sharply with it when 10K looked back.

Murphy stumbled a little as they rounded a corner and 10K grabbed his elbow to steady him, bracing his arm under Murphy's. Murphy's face was ashen under his blue skin, but he gave 10K a fleeting, appreciative glance as they continued on. There was an apprehension in his eyes that 10K had never seen in him before.

"Where are we going?" Asked 10K tensely without looking back.

"Keep walking," said the stranger shortly.

"Just let us go," pleaded 10K, glancing at Murphy. Murphy was starting to lean more heavily on his arm. "We'll go and we won't look back."

"I said, walk!" Barked the stranger. He squeezed his hand-held device and a short burst of electricity hit Murphy and 10K. They stumbled, barely managing to stay on their feet.

"If you keep doing that you'll lose your last show pieces," growled Murphy furiously.

The other man chuckled. "You're not for show anymore," he answered, oddly quiet again. "That's what I wanted for you... It would have been a good life, Murphy... A life with purpose. But you made me kill all the best zombies I had." His tone grew darker. "So now I have to find another use for you. Stop right there... go through that door."

10K stopped walking. His eyes fell on the door to their left, painted white but stained with what looked like old blood.

"Open the door and go in," said the stranger.

"What's in there?" Asked 10K apprehensively. He did his best not to sound too nervous as he looked behind him at the stranger.

The man's patience had worn thinner. "NOW." He ordered firmly, raising the device with his thumb on the button.

Murphy stepped forward and turned the door knob. He sent a quelling glance in 10K's direction that seemed to say, 'Don't do anything stupid.' Then he pushed the door open and moved over the threshold, followed closely by 10K.

The room was unfurnished except for an old wooden table in one corner, covered by a ragged tarp. There was a long, rusted chain coiled beneath it, and a single three-legged stool. More rusty chains hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room and a radiator pipe lined the base of the far wall. The wooden floor was stained dark, almost black.

"What the hell is this place?" Growled Murphy as his eyes settled on the barred window.

The stranger shoved them a few more steps into the room with the barrel of 10K's gun. "This is where I keep the zombies until they're fitted with their collars," he explained conversationally. "I can't just put them on display right away, I have to train them first."

The man closed the door behind them and turned a key below the knob, locking them in. Murphy and 10K watched as the man made his way around the edge of the room to the table and straightened the tarp.

"You're making a big mistake," said Murphy, but the man didn't seem to listen.

"So..." began the stranger, turning from the table and facing his two captives. "Now we have our fun. Well... I do, anyway."

A shiver ran down 10K's spine and he glanced sideways at Murphy. Murphy spared a look in his direction, and the worry in the older man's expression lent 10K no reassurance.

"Here, boy. Take this rope."

10K took his eyes off Murphy.

The stranger dangled a thin rope toward him. A sadistic smile had returned to his face. "Tie your friend's hands behind his back."

10K didn't move as the man thrust the rope at him once more. He was rooted to the spot.

"NOW!" The stranger ordered. He held up the buzzer and pressed down on the button.

Once again, 10K and Murphy were struck by bolts of electricity. 10K collapsed again, shaking, unable to control his limbs. His arms crossed over his chest and his fists gripped over each other as his body convulsed, and tides of agonizing pain rolled through him.

After what seem like long minutes the voltage stopped, and 10K fought for breath while his functions returned. His muscles shook uncontrollably and his arms felt like jelly as he raised himself onto one elbow.

The stranger moved past 10K toward Murphy and bent down, yanking Murphy up by one arm. He shoved the weakened Murphy backward against the wall and twisted both his arms behind his back.

"I have to do everything myself," griped the stranger. He fastened the rope tightly around Murphy's wrists and knotted them securely. Murphy's teeth were bared and his eyes spit fire, but he seemed too weak to resist.

After a moment, the stranger straightened up and took a step back to admire his work.

Murphy opened his mouth and released a breathless snarl. "You'll regret this. When our group finds us... you'll wish you never set eyes on either... one of us..."

"No one's going to find you here," sneered the other man with a wink. "These walls are sound-proof. I can't have the new zombies scaring the patrons, can I? I have to keep them quiet, keep them under control. Which is why I installed the sound-proofing myself."

"Patrons?" Said Murphy incredulously. "No one is going to come... to your ridiculous little museum..."

"Oh, they'll come. Maybe your friends will be my first visitors, or maybe it'll be those quacks from the CDC. There are a lot of people out there who would pay a lot for a sample of blood from the one and only... Murphy."

10K shook his head and sat the rest of the way up. "We have to get Murphy to California," he told the stranger, a desperate appeal. "He could - he could save humanity, don't you understand? His blood is the only hope for a vaccine - !"

"His blood?" Asked the stranger lightly. "I already took six pints of it, it's mine now. I'm amazed he's still alive. No, my young friend... no one's going to California. Well, your friends are free to go, they can do whatever they want." He paused, and his eyes raked 10K up and down. "Just like I'm going to."

Another shudder ran down 10K's back under the man's piercing gaze, and he shifted uncomfortably, getting to his feet. "If you just listen - " He began.

The man didn't let him finish. "No, it's time for you to listen." He looked down at the device in his hand, fiddling with a button. 10K tensed his body, expecting another onslaught, but no electricity came. Then the man met his eyes again and he pointed at the remote in his hand. "Are you listening? Every time I press this button now the Murphy will get it. I've tripled the voltage so it might even kill him. I don't know what it takes to kill a half-zombie... so don't push me to find out. Is that clear?"

10K's eyes flickered nervously between Murphy and their captor.

"If you do what I tell you to do, the Murphy gets a break," continued the stranger with a cold smile. "And if you don't, I'll fry him."

Still, 10K said nothing. It was more and more apparent that this zombie collector was beyond reasoning with.

"Walk to the middle of the floor."

10K heard the firm order, but his feet were glued in place. In his peripheral vision he could see Murphy squirming to sit straighter against the wall.

"Are you deaf? I said move," ordered the other man.

"Why?" Asked 10K hotly. His tone was fiercer in the face of the unknown.

"Stay where you are," grunted Murphy from across the room.

"If you don't do what I say I'll fry him hotter than Zeus himself," whispered the stranger. He held up his little remote and he looked for all the world like he hoped 10K would still refuse.

But 10K couldn't let Murphy be killed. Not after everything they had been through to get Murphy to California... If 10K failed now and Murphy died, the others would never forgive him.

Slowly and cautiously, 10K took a few steps toward the middle of the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Murphy shake his head sharply, but he took another step toward the hanging chains.

He looked up at the chains as he stopped beneath them. Close-up he could see thin manacles dangling from the ends of the brownish chains, and he could tell it wasn't really rust that stained the metal... it was dried blood.

Without warning, their captive strode forward and jabbed a thin prod into the side of 10K's ribs. 10K grunted and his knees buckled as a bolt of electricity shredded through his muscles. He would have fallen if the man hadn't suddenly been there, yanking 10K up by the wrist.

"H - hey - get off!" Panted 10K and he tried to drive his knee into the man's stomach, but he was weakened and his attacker was bigger and stronger at close range. Soon 10K's wrists were being locked in the blood-covered manacles above him.

10K fought to get loose. He pulled on the chains and kicked with his feet, bucking his shoulders against the other man's bulk. With ice in his veins, he felt the manacles cinched so tightly around his wrists that he started to lose feeling in his hands right away.

Murphy struggled to stand against the wall. The stranger noticed, and backed away from 10K, leaving him hanging from the ceiling to face his other captive. He pointed his remote at Murphy and Murphy went rigid, collapsing on his side and starting to shake.

"NO!" Yelled 10K, "Stop!"

Finally their captor released the button on the remote and Murphy stopped seizing. There was real fear in 10K's eyes as he stared at Murphy's limp form across the room. Had it been too much that time?

To his enormous relief, Murphy's eyes opened and the blue-skinned man took a shallow, ragged breath.

"I told you what would happen, didn't I?"

10K looked at the stranger to find him staring intently back at him. "You can't kill Murphy," he said loudly.

Their captor's nostrils flared excitedly. "I wasn't lying about the voltage. Are we on the same page now?"

"No," exclaimed 10K, losing his cool. "No! We're not on the same page, I don't know what we're doing here! I don't know what you want!"

10K's outburst didn't seem to slow the man down. On the contrary, a dark look of anticipation smoothed the anger off his stubbly face, and his eyes narrowed on 10K. He licked his lips, advancing a few steps toward the middle of the room. "What I want..." he began, ominously calm. "Is right in front of me."

10K stared at him in confusion. "What? What do you want?"

The man's mouth curled into a chilling smirk. He took another step closer and his gaze moved up and down 10K's front. When he spoke his voice sounded somehow different; tighter and raspier, and less upset. "I want you," he said, and his eyes shone.

10K felt as though a block of ice had lodged in his throat and was sliding into his chest. "What - why?" He asked nervously. "I'm no one, I'm normal - "

"Don't sell yourself short," answered the man, stopping a foot away from 10K. "You're going to be more than that to me. You and the Murphy will really make me rich. But that's not the only thing you'll do for me, boy."

10K didn't recognize the strange inflection in the stranger's tone. He didn't like the way the man kept looking him over, but he still didn't understand what was going on. So he fell silent again.

His silence seemed to tickle the stranger, who's dark posture lightened a little with a chuckle. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He said, sounding pleased. "You really don't know much."

Despite his predicament, 10K felt a flare of indignation at the man's remark. "I know some things," he argued tremulously.

"No..." Laughed the man, tossing his shoulder-length hair out of his face. "No you don't. You don't know what it's like to be alone for as long as I have, for years and years. You don't know what it's like to have no one but zombies - and they're no company at all."

"I was alone for three years," protested 10K.

"I'm talking about needs, boy. You probably don't even know what it's like to have needs, but let me tell you, it's brutal. There are just some things in life that a man needs, you know what I mean?"

10K bit back a retort, his mind racing as he tried to understand where this was going.

"I bet you're still a virgin."

At that, the ice in 10K's chest flooded his stomach. He stood completely still and stared at the stranger.

"You didn't hear me wrong," said the man with a sneer. "I bet you never did the deed. Have you ever even whacked one off?"

A sense of horror burgeoned in 10K as he heard the man's words. That look in his eyes... the way he kept eyeing 10K like a tender piece of meat...

10K was young but he was no idiot.

The stranger laughed darkly. "That's what I thought. This will be more fun than I expected."

"Scumbag," growled Murphy from the other side of the room. "Fucking... Z-worshiping piece of shit..."

Without looking away from 10K, the stranger raised his remote into the air. A moment later, Murphy howled and sprawled sideways, twitching and shaking, his eyes rolling back in his head and foam dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"Stop! STOP IT!" Shouted 10K, rattling the chains. "Don't kill him - don't - !"

When the man let go of the button on his remote, Murphy lay half-conscious on the floor.

10K rattled the chains again. "Murphy!" He cried out, pulling as hard as he could against the metal that held him. "Murphy... Wake up!"

"That's why I come prepared," soothed the stranger as he lowered the remote. "Don't worry about him... he'll be fine, as long as you cooperate."

"C-cooperate?" Stammered 10K, tearing his eyes off Murphy.

Just as soon as his eyes fell on the stranger, the man had closed the space between them and wrapped two hands around 10K's neck.

10K choked and spluttered, his eyes watering as his air was cut off. He kicked with his feet but couldn't seem to land a blow, and as he struggled the man strangled him harder. Veins stood out on 10K's red face and white lights popped in front of his eyes, but the man was relentless.

As 10K's brain started screaming for oxygen his sight darkened and his struggles weakened. Only then did the man release his throat.

10K gulped the air, coughing and wheezing, and his body hung limp. He blinked the popping lights out of his eyes and coughed out breath after breath. "Please - " He gasped. He tried to regain control of his body. "Why - why are you doing this?"

The man's hands held 10K gently by the base of his neck. "I already told you," he answered, almost as breathless as 10K. "A man has needs, and I've been alone for a long time. How could I have known a good-looking kid like you would wander into my museum out of the blue? Even if Murphy hadn't made me kill my star attractions, I couldn't have planned it better."

A string of weak, angry groans issued from Murphy's corner. This time 10K didn't try to look. He was frozen except for his heavy breathing, as though the block of ice had consumed him and he would never move his limbs again.

"Don't look so upset," said the stranger with a somewhat gentle tweak of 10K's chin. "I'll make it fun for you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter contains the sexual assault of a minor. Read at your discretion.


	3. Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a breaking point. It's what happens after that point that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains the sexual assault of a minor. Read at your discretion.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

"We should be properly introduced, don't you think? Murphy's not in the mood to do it... so I'm Dean." The zombie collector winked at him amiably. His thumb and forefinger stayed around 10K's chin and he moved the boy's face from side to side, studying his features. "And you are?"

10K couldn't stop himself from being jerked around at that particular moment, but he didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of a response.

Silence irked their captor, who aimed his remote toward Murphy in a clear threat.

A few short breaths later, 10K complied. "10K."

The stranger lowered the remote and gave 10K an interested stare. "That's unique," he mused affectionately. "We'll have to do better than that though. I'll think of something easier on the ears."

10K gritted his teeth. He balled his hands into fists above his head, unsure of what to say or do. He could barely feel his fingers and his arms were beginning to tingle. The stark reality of their circumstances became more dire with every passing moment.

Dean still wore an excited smirk as he raked 10K with his eager gaze. He brushed his other hand against 10K's throat, making the boy cringe, and ran his fingers along the curve of 10K's collarbone. Letting go of his chin, Dean's hands strayed down over the front of 10K's shirt to his sides. He tickled his fingers against the boy's ribs, almost playfully.

10K grimaced and turned his head away, unwilling to look into the man's shining face. Dean's touch was soft, but it filled him with dread.

Dean hooked his fingers around 10K's sides and squeezed gently, then pulled him slightly forward by the hips. 10K tried to resist, his toes slipping across the wooden floor, but Dean pressed forward with his pelvis and firmly locked their lower halves together.

"What - what're you doing?" Stammered 10K.

"Shh..." Answered the zombie collector with a thrust of his hips. "Just relax, kid."

But 10K was far from relaxed. He yanked himself backward in an attempt to dislodge Dean's grip on his hips, to no avail. "Don't," he muttered nervously. "D - don't - "

"Don't what?" Murmured Dean. The older man licked his lips and feasted on 10K's fearful expression. "Don't stop?" He thrust his hips against 10K's again and panted out a low chuckle.

There was another snarl from Murphy's corner. In 10K's periphery he could see more movement, like Murphy was struggling to sit up again, but Dean paid no attention to his other captive.

The collector's hands left 10K's hips and slid back up his sides under his shirt. Rough nails tickled 10K's skin, causing his muscles to jump and his breath to catch. He yanked as hard as he could on the chains.

Dean leaned close to the side of 10K's head and inhaled deeply. "Don't fight me," he whispered. His tongue flicked out and ran along the ridge of 10K's ear.

"Please," shuddered 10K, leaning his face as far away from Dean as he could. "Whatever you want, what - whatever you're after, you don't have to do this..."

"Oh-ho! I'm only just getting started," laughed Dean. He nibbled 10K's earlobe and his hands became more insistent under 10K's shirt. His fingers flicked across 10K's nipple, then pinched it roughly, eliciting a fresh gasp of anger and pain.

Dean seemed to like that. He pinched 10K's nipple again, but this time 10K bit back his cry. The backs of his eyes felt hot but he wouldn't cry; he couldn't let himself cry. Helpless, he hung from the chains in the middle of the ceiling with a sense of horror burgeoning in his chest. He was at the other man's mercy.

Dean continued to run his hands along 10K's skin. He pushed the boy's shirt further and further up. He tickled a little beneath 10K's armpits and 10K groaned, his muscles twitching.

"You're one... sick motherfucker..." Murphy's exhausted growl issued from the corner of the room.

Dean only laughed, and didn't stop what he was doing. "Welcome to the new world, Mr. Murphy! The whole world is a sick motherfucker. Didn't you get the memo?" He tweaked 10K's nipple as he spoke. "Now it's up to us freaks to make it alright. And you know what? I think I'm doing a damn good job... Look at me, 10K."

10K shivered when Dean's hot breath hit the side of his face. His skin prickled and his stomach muscles began to quiver. He couldn't make himself look.

Dean grabbed him roughly by the jaw again and tried to force his head around, but 10K jerked out of his grasp and bit down on his outstretched hand.

"God - GOD DAMN IT!" Howled Dean. He ripped his hand free of 10K's teeth and backhanded the boy with all his strength.

10K swung sideways and caught himself by his own chains. He gave his swimming head a shake to clear it, but a moment later Dean struck him again, this time across the temple with a closed fist.

10K grunted loudly and swung limp, his vision blurring. He must have bitten down on his tongue because hot blood started to fill the back of his mouth. His dizzy eyes rolled forward to find Dean... if another hit was coming, he wanted to see it.

Dean didn't hit him again. It seemed some of his rage had been vented. He grabbed the front of 10K's shirt to stop his swinging and pulled him forward again. "You're not the one who's supposed to do the biting..." He panted with a glint in his eyes.

10K clamped his lips shut around the pooling blood. Soon he would have to swallow it or spit it out.

"Hey..." Came Murphy's voice from the corner. He had propped himself upright against the wall. "Listen... Dean... let's make a deal. This... this is bad for business... Listen to me, listen good..."

Dean released 10K's shirt and pointed his remote at Murphy. He pressed down on the button.

Harsh electric buzzing filled the room, mixed with Murphy's anguished snarls.

10K panicked and did the only thing he could think of to do.

He leaned forward and spat all the blood out of his mouth toward Dean.

"Oh - God," snapped Dean in alarm. He released the button on his remote and stood back to avoid the spray. "I just cleaned this shirt, you little shit!"

10K fell back and glared at Dean. It gave him a sense of gratification to see blood spattered all over the front of Dean's button-down.

But as Dean pulled something long and thin off of his belt, 10K knew his satisfaction would be short-lived. It was a gleaming metal rod, and the tip sparked with electricity when Dean gripped its handle. Without a word, Dean jabbed the electric rod into 10K's stomach.

A strangled yell choked off in 10K's throat and his head jerked backward. His knees bent up and his feet left the ground as his body curled and convulsed with the high voltage. The volts surged through 10K like nothing he had ever felt before, a hundred times worse than before, tearing ruthlessly through muscle and bone, jolting his nerves and burning the skin of his wrists.

10K's vision darkened - he was losing consciousness. The last thing he saw before he sagged toward the floor was the collector's expression of rapture.

Only when 10K's eyes rolled back did Dean remove the source of his agony.

The first thing 10K felt when he returned to consciousness was a firm grip under his jaw. Adrenaline flooded him and his head snapped up, but warm blood trickled down the back of his throat and he coughed roughly.

"Sorry..." echoed Dean's voice, very close. "I wasn't thinking about those chains..."

10K took ragged breaths and tried to steady himself. If it weren't for Dean's grasp under his chin he might not have been able to keep his head up.

"Don't we all know what they say about metal and electricity?"

10K fought to speak, to say something, anything, but his throat muscles were too tight and he couldn't find his voice.

"You know what else they say about it?" Continued Dean. He shook 10K lightly by the jaw. "About electricity?"

10K couldn't have answered even if he wanted to.

That time Dean didn't wait for a reply. "You don't know. But it's good news for you if it's true. So... let's test it."

Before 10K's foggy mind had time to react, Dean let go of his chin. Rough palms ran down 10K's sides and slid up his shirt again. Then Dean's knuckles brushed across the sensitive skin of 10K's navel, and cold fingers slipped under the black hem of 10K's pants.

10K's breath caught in his chest and his stomach muscles tensed. His face scrunched up in refusal but his struggles were weak.

Dean found the clasp under 10K's bellybutton and he twisted it open, yanking outward on the thin material. He started to force down the zipper.

"No - " gasped 10K with a wave of desperation, finally remembering how to speak. "Don't do that - !"

"You can still stop this!" Heaved Murphy, a dozen yards away but it might as well have been a mile. "It's not too late to survive the night - ! You still have me and I'll v...vouch for you!" He broke off, panting.

The man stared hungrily into 10K's eyes. "He thinks you still have a card to play," he remarked in a deep and throaty voice. He let go of 10K's zipper. "I think you do, too."

Suddenly he cupped 10K through his pants and squeezed.

10K grunted in surprise and yanked backward with his hips, kicking out with his feet. He failed to land a blow, and his feet slid uselessly past Dean's shins on either side.

"That is a child, you fucking - idiot - "

Dean shouldered himself against 10K and shoved his knee between the boy's knees, driving his legs slightly apart. He squeezed 10K again through the crotch of his pants.

"No..." choked 10K fearfully. "Please - "

"Relax," hissed Dean. His hot breath washed over 10K's throat and his eyes brightened. He began to rub 10K in earnest with an unrelenting grasp. "Let it feel good..."

10K shook his head back and forth. He tried to close his legs, but the man kept him snug with one arm around his back.

"Look at that. I guess the old tale about electricity is true," chuckled Dean, out of breath. "Or maybe you're just happy to see me."

A sickening feeling was rising unbidden through 10K's body. It was a tingling wave that spread into his belly, down his legs and into his toes, and try as he might, he couldn't banish it. He was losing authority over his own functions, but the idea of what could happen made his heart race and his sight waver. "Please..." he groaned, terrified. "Please just listen... just stop..."

"Stop fighting it," commanded Dean gently. He jerked on 10K's zipper and pushed his hand beneath the waistline of his pants. Skin to skin, he resumed his persistent strokes.

"I'll make sure you die a slow death!" Coughed Murphy. "I'll be there when you die!"

But it was 10K who wanted to die. "I think - I'm going to throw up - "

"No you won't, 10K..." Urged Dean. "Ride it out... Once you crest that wave you won't want anything else the rest of your waking life!"

10K's head dropped forward until his forehead hit Dean's shoulder. His breath was a rush of short, quaking bursts as Dean rubbed him fast. Heat rose through his groin until he could barely contain the energy of it, and every muscle in his body shook with rousing tremors.

"That's it... that's it..."

"N - no!" Cried 10K. He bucked his hips away from Dean again but that only heightened the sensation in his groin. He bared his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, but he couldn't stop it.

A pained groan of humiliation tore from his throat and he lost the last of his control. His back arched and he hid his face against Dean's shoulder as he came.

Dean continued to rub him until the boy's lower back stopped thrusting. He let out a long, low chuckle into 10K's ear.

10K didn't open his eyes. He wanted to sink through the floor and disappear, never to be seen again. He wanted to evaporate into the air and become nothing at all. Anything but who he was...

Anywhere but here.

"Well that didn't take long," rasped Dean. The man grabbed 10K's hair and forced his head back up to search his face.

Murphy had fought to reach them, but he had only managed to push himself a few feet across the floor with his bound arms. His snarls continued to fill the room, some of it words and some incoherent. "I'm going... to twist your head off your neck..." Murphy was starting to lose his voice from shouting. "And rip your neck bone out of your body... and mercy you on your own broken spine..."

Dean took his remote back off his belt and aimed it at Murphy. He pressed the button and sent Murphy into another frenzy of convulsions.

10K didn't have the wherewithal to protest. His head dropped back down when Dean released his hair. His wiry frame hung listlessly from the blood-stained chains.

He wasn't ready to hold his own weight when Dean released his wrists from the manacles. A burst of adrenaline lent him strength and he tried to get his shaking legs beneath him, but once he was free of the chains his knees collapsed and he went down hard.

He landed on his side and tried to turn over on his back, already starting to push himself across the floor. Then Dean was above him again. The man swept down and dug a knee into 10K's chest to keep him still.

"Where are you going?" He simpered with a playful frown. "Do you really want to be the only one who gets off?"

Tears leaked from the corners of 10K's eyes as he stared up at the zombie collector. Time seemed to move in slow motion. Dean sunk down, settling himself over 10K's hips, and 10K was powerless to fight him.

But just as suddenly as 10K had fallen, Dean was hesitating. The man looked up from 10K and sat up straight, straddling his charge, and twisting his head to look at the door. An impossibly long moment dragged by while neither of them moved.

Then Dean swung his leg off 10K and got to his feet. A gun had appeared in his hand. He aimed it down at 10K. "Don't... move," he said, deadly quiet. "If you pull something stupid while I'm gone, you'll wish you were never born."

And with that Dean turned on his heel and strode to the door. Using the key he unlocked it, stepped through, and shut it behind him. 10K heard the metallic sound of a key turning in the lock, and then there was only ringing silence.

10K stared at the closed door, numb and confused. Where had the man gone? Why had he stopped? 10K sat up slowly, bracing himself on his arms. He was frozen in place as he tried to regain his senses.

"Kid..."

10K jumped at the sound of the grating voice behind him. He threw out a defensive arm and climbed haphazardly to his feet, spinning around until his eyes fell on Murphy.

"Kid... help me up."

10K's wits came trickling back to him. "Murphy..." He muttered shakily, tripping forward. He fell on his knees near Murphy's side and held out trembling hands, but he paused. He didn't know where to touch - he didn't want to touch Murphy at all.

"Hurry..."

10K pushed away his discomfort and took hold of Murphy's upper arm. His strength was waning, but he helped Murphy sit up straight, his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He tried to ignore the foreign thoughts that invaded his mind at their physical contact.

"The ropes..." Rasped Murphy.

10K unknotted the ropes binding Murphy's arms as quickly as he could, and let go as soon as possible. Murphy pulled his arms around to the front and draped them in his lap, wincing, and 10K cast the rope into the other corner of the room.

"Murphy," he began unsteadily. "W-we can't be here when he gets back. I don't - I don't know where he went - "

"He heard something downstairs," said Murphy coldly. His eyes looked like chips of frozen stone. "I heard it too."

"What? Heard what?"

Finally, Murphy met 10K's gaze. "I don't know. But we don't have time to wonder, kid. We're getting out of here."

Crouching beside his former nemesis, 10K found himself flooded by a surge of hope. He nodded quickly and moved back, standing. With every ounce of will he still had, 10K forced his humiliation at what had happened into the back of his mind and locked it there. He had never trusted Murphy, or even liked him, but at that moment neither of them had any choice but to be allies. Now was the time to survive.

10K reached down and pulled a small pin out of the side of his boot, then straightened up. "I can get us out of this room," he said in an undertone, his eyes flickering to the locked door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for more hurt before the comfort arrives. Enjoy!


	4. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missed opportunity can mean the difference between life and death.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

The zombie collector smoothed his hair over his bruised temple and holstered his captive's gun. He made his way down to the first level, his face flushed red, looking more than a little annoyed. At the top of the stairs he caught sight of the source of the sound he had heard from upstairs.

A group of people were outside his front door. They were clearly trying to force their way inside.

One of their number, a tall and muscular man with a short haircut, spotted Dean through the glass. He straightened up with a quick word to the others, and they did the same.

Once they had all seen each other, Dean trotted down the stairs and walked casually toward the door. "Do you mind?" He asked through the glass, staring pointedly at the lock picks in their hands.

A black-skinned woman at the front of the group held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "We mean you no harm," she said in a clear, calm voice. "We didn't know this building was occupied."

Dean nodded and waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Don't worry about it. Now you see that here I am, occupying it... So is that all?"

"Is everything okay in there?" Said the woman keenly. Her eyes roved over the blood spatter covering the front of Dean's shirt. "We heard a gunshot."

"Just your garden variety 'Z in the pantry,' you know how it is," said Dean, raising his eyebrows. He wiped some blood off his chin and flicked it to the side. "It happens from time to time."

"Does it?" Said the woman. Her eyebrows twitched together as she watched Dean. The others in her group held back.

"It does, yeah..." Dean's face was impassive and he crossed his arms over his chest.

But the woman didn't appear to be satisfied. "The old 'Zombie-in-the-pantry,' gotta love the apocalypse..." She continued without smiling.

"Gotta love it," echoed Dean. His tensely pleasant facade was slipping. "So is that... all?"

A pretty red-head stepped up to the glass and piped up. "You haven't seen anyone come by here? Or heard anyone in trouble?"

"Like I said, I can't help you," answered Dean briskly. "Sorry, lady. There's nothing but zombies in this town."

"Zombies, and two of our friends," said the black woman with a meaningful glance to her red-haired friend. She leveled an X-ray gaze on Dean and raised her arms to show him what she was holding. It was a black duffel bag and a rifle. "At least one our friends was here, because these were in the bushes."

Dean met the woman's gaze with an impatient stare. "Look, find him yourself. Your friend is probably a Z-burger by now, that's what happens these days to kids who wander away from the flock. I'm busy, alright?"

Roberta Warren's eyebrows knitted together and she tilted her head. She frowned, staring in through the glass. But after another moment she gave the man a short nod, stepping back. "Okay," she said evenly. "Sorry for your trouble, sir."

Warren turned her back on the man and started down the stairs, followed by Addy, Doc, and Vasquez. She felt the man's eyes on her the whole way down the sidewalk until they turned right at the corner, and walked out of sight.

Once they stepped into the shadow of the big, brick building, Addy rounded on Warren. She crossed the sidewalk to block her friend's path and Warren was brought up short. Doc and Vasquez stopped, too.

"Where are we going?" Demanded Addy. "That man was lying."

"I know," said Warren. She drew her pistol from its holster. "I never said anything about a kid."

"But why would he lie?" Said Doc, giving the brick wall a dirty look.

"Only reason he would be lying," answered Warren. "Is that he's up to no good. And when you're up to no good in this damn apocalypse, you gonna get a good old-fashioned spanking."

A grin split Doc's face and he nodded appreciatively, with a chuckling look in Addy's direction. When Addy failed to engage in the humor and only stared at him, judging his amusement, Doc's smile faded and he cleared his throat. He scratched the side of his head before following Warren and Vasquez down the sidewalk. Addy caught up with him and stuck close by his side.

.

.

.

"Kid - if you can pick that door lock, you think you could get these collars off?"

10K turned back toward Murphy and his reddened eyes fell on the collar around Murphy's neck. He knelt back down at Murphy's side.

There was a small black box on the front, which 10K angled upward toward the light. Deep-set in the thick, black metal was a thin bolt attached to two silver squares.

"I think so," said 10K as he set to task. He inserted the pin into the small opening on one of the silver squares, working carefully.

10K felt numb as he maneuvered Murphy's collar. The numbness was a necessary defense, voluntary or not, and it allowed him to focus only on what he was doing. In 10K's state of mild shock the only things that mattered were his immediate actions. There was no room for anything else in his head, and he was thankful for that.

He finessed the pin from left to right in a short arc. After a few more adjustments he felt the tip of the pin catch against the tumblers inside the lock, and he held it completely still. Then he lifted it slowly, pushing the pin further in as he did so.

There was a metallic click and the locking bolt slid back. The heavy, black collar slid off Murphy's neck.

Murphy picked up the collar and tossed it across the room. "Thanks," he said in a feeble voice, pulling his legs toward himself. He tried to climb precariously to his feet, but he slid back down the wall on shaking legs. Without pause he tried again.

10K had already left Murphy's side. His face was set as he crossed the room to the locked door and knelt in front of the handle.

He inserted the pin gently into the door lock. A frown of concentration creased his forehead as he wiggled the pin left, right, up, and down. He turned the pin in a half-circle, searching for the tumblers.

Murphy finally got his feet under him. Wincing, he staggered across the room in 10K's wake. "Do your collar before you do the door," he said as he reached 10K. He leaned heavily on the door frame.

"I'll get it," said 10K hurriedly without looking at Murphy. His face was only a few inches from the door handle as he pushed the pin a little further into the lock. He lifted it, turning it around in another smooth arc.

"The collar is more important than the door," insisted Murphy. "Without these collars, we can take him. Two against one. Give me the pick and I'll do it for you."

But 10K wasn't really listening. His nose was almost touching the door handle. "I almost got it..." He murmured as the seconds dragged by. Soon there was a solid click and the lock released.

10K twisted the handle and shoved the door open. He leaned into the hallway to look in both directions. "Come on - " He started to say.

But Murphy grabbed 10K's shoulder from behind to stop him.

"Hey!" Cried 10K in surprise, exhaling sharply as he whirled around to face Murphy. He shoved his arms against Murphy's front and pushed the man back.

Murphy tripped away from 10K and almost lost his balance. As he caught himself, his eyes found 10K again and he held out his hands in a non-threatening way. "Hey - easy," he said, his first attempt at reassurance. "You could kick my ass right now with your little finger and I wouldn't be able to stop you."

10K stared at Murphy with widened eyes until Murphy lowered his hands.

When Murphy spoke again his voice was low and calm on purpose. "There's no time for this... that collar has to come off right now, because if you rampage down the hall still wearing that thing you'll get yourself blasted to kingdom come."

10K glanced down at the pin in his hand, and looked back up. "I said I'll do it," he breathed, sounding winded.

"Then do it," ordered Murphy.

10K reached up to the collar around his neck and yanked it forward until he felt the box and the small, metal squares. His breathing slowed and he went silent again as he got to work on the third and final lock.

Murphy watched 10K work. Blue frown lines seemed permanently etched into the man's forehead. After thirty seconds of nothing but the small sounds of metal on metal, Murphy cleared his throat. "Listen, kid... I know we're not friends," he began in a scratchy voice. When 10K didn't react, Murphy continued. "We never have to be friends. But I would never... I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

10K concentrated harder on the box at his throat. He couldn't see what he was doing so he had to go by what he could feel.

"You know that, right?" Pushed Murphy. His voice was full of uncertainty and doubt, both of which were out of character for him.

Maybe that was why 10K nodded briefly in response.

"And I know you don't trust me," said Murphy. "I don't expect you to. I don't trust me either, but just hear me out, that's all I'm asking... some men get a demon in them, and when they do it's always other people that have to pay the price."

10K's gaze flickered as he gave the collar a yank.

"What he did, that... motherfucking... piss-poor excuse of a devil... some men have always been that way and it's not your fault."

10K craned his neck to see his fingers. It was a lot harder picking the lock of his own collar. He didn't give any sign that he was listening closely, but in truth he hung onto every word that Murphy spoke.

"You hear me?" Pressed Murphy.

"Yes," said 10K, but he didn't make eye contact.

"Good." Murphy had never dreamed that comforting a fledgling rival would be his responsibility, but the instinct came more naturally than he expected. What he had seen that day filled Murphy with a rage that burned strongest in the silences. "Whatever he did to you, that's on him... not you. You better be listening to me, 10K."

Murphy's use of 10K's name made the boy pause from his work and look up. They made eye contact, and when he saw the uncomfortable look of concern on Murphy's face, the fear and humiliation in the back of his mind threatened to break down his barriers.

His eyes widened and his throat tightened. He felt trapped in that moment, so close to the thoughts he was trying to keep out.

But before either of them could say anything more, they heard a sound that chilled them both to the bone. Murphy went stock-still and stared past 10K through the door.

Distant, echoing footsteps reached their ears, and the sound was getting closer.

A split second later, Murphy experienced a shock of adrenaline. He grabbed 10K by the upper arm and pulled him out into the hall, then started running in the opposite direction.

Wordlessly, they sprinted side by side down the dark hallway, with 10K one step behind Murphy. At the end of the hall Murphy took a hard right, and 10K followed with a brief glance over his shoulder. The hallway behind them was still empty.

The two of them barreled down a staircase lit by high, barred windows and sprinted past the landing. When they came out on the second floor Murphy slowed down a little.

"This freak has the front door electrified," he panted as they ran. "We have to find another way out."

A furious howl sounded above them, making 10K and Murphy look toward the ceiling. "YOU WON'T GET FAR!" Yelled Dean's distant voice.

"Hurry," growled Murphy again. "Down this way!"

"Wait - we need weapons - "

"Just run!"

Murphy grabbed 10K by the arm once more and 10K didn't protest. He matched Murphy's speed again as they reached the bottom of the stairs and came out onto a balcony overlooking the front hall.

10K caught himself on the railing of the balcony and looked down. There was the front door, but if it was electrified like Murphy said, it was useless to their escape. "I came in through a door off East Street," said 10K breathlessly. He turned back around. "I left the door open. If we take the first hallway from the second floor I can get us there."

Murphy looked pale beneath the blueness of his skin. He turned a slow eye toward the ceiling. They could hear pounding footsteps two floors above them. Murphy looked back down at 10K and nodded. "Alright... finish off that collar, then run faster than you've ever run in your life, kid."

10K nodded and reached into his pants pocket. He rooted around for a moment. Then he froze, looking stricken.

"What?" Hissed Murphy, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"

"The pick," stammered 10K, digging in his pocket again. "I - I must have dropped it when we ran!"

Murphy glared at him incredulously. "You're kidding me."

10K tried his other pocket, and his boot. "I don't have it."

"Your knife!" Growled Murphy. "Get your knife and I'll cut the thing off."

10K shook his head. "No, my - my gun was the only weapon I brought inside - "

"Come here," interrupted Murphy furiously, grabbing 10K by the collar. He yanked the boy closer despite 10K's nervous burst of protests, and pulled on the collar with both hands.

He twisted the black material in his fingers, trying to rip the fabric. He dug his fingernails into the silver squares on either side of the bolt but the collar wouldn't break. "Damn it..." Growled Murphy.

10K was holding tightly onto Murphy's wrists. When Murphy released him he took a quick step back, rubbing his throat.

"Fine... it's fine," muttered Murphy, casting around the balcony with his eyes. "Help me find a weapon. He can still blast you but he can't blast me."

A pale 10K took to the other side of the balcony, searching beneath a table and behind a row of scrappy chairs. With a surge of inspiration, 10K picked up one of the chairs and slammed it to the floor. Its legs broke off and 10K grabbed the sharpest shards, turning around to find Murphy. "Murphy!" He whisper-called. "There's one for both of - " Suddenly the collar buzzed around his neck and his voice was cut off. He stiffened and collapsed to the floor, dropping the legs of the chair as he fell.

"Kid!"

10K barely recognized Murphy's voice through the siege of high voltage. He thrashed madly on the floor and the edges of his vision began to darken. Murphy's face swam into view above him just before 10K lost consciousness.

Peaceful darkness. Calm and quiet.

It was like slipping into a fantasy from a nightmare.

But 10K felt a sharp sting and the quiet blackness faltered.

No... he wanted to stay there in the silence for just a little longer.

Another sharp sting pierced through his subconscious, and the darkness fractured.

He opened his eyes and light came flooding back in.

"Are you with me, kid?!" Someone slapped the side of his face, hard.

10K realized he was being held down. With a gasp his eyes flew open the rest of the way, and he threw his arms out, kicking with his feet. His fist connected with something solid and he heard a pained grunt of surprise. Then the weight lifted off his chest.

"Woah - stop, it's me! It's Murphy, don't kick me!"

10K sat up and pushed himself a few inches away from Murphy. He focused on the other man and comprehension trickled back into his gaze. "Murphy?" He gasped, rubbing his face. "Stop... stop slapping me..."

"Sorry, kid," grunted Murphy as he got to his feet and strode to the railing of the balcony. "Come on, get up. We have to jump. Think you can figure out how to get back to the East Street door from the front hall?"

"Yeah," breathed 10K. He heaved himself to his feet and followed Murphy to the railing, looking down. "Yeah, I think so."

Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind them.

"We're out of time!" Growled Murphy, "Go! NOW!"

10K swung a leg over the railing, but before he could push himself over the edge he was struck by another barrage of electricity. The volts jumped between him and the metal railing, sending him rolling stiffly back to the balcony floor.

"MOTHERFUCK - " Murphy's roar broke off into silence.

10K fought to get up to his elbows.

Murphy stood at the base of the stairs, looking up at Dean. There was a thin handgun in Dean's fist and it was aimed at Murphy.

Murphy staggered on wobbly legs. As he lost his balance, he tripped away from the zombie collector and stumbled around to face 10K.

10K saw a fluffy, pink bob protruding from the front of Murphy's chest. Murphy dropped to his knees and pulled the feathery bob out of his skin. He took his eyes off the pink feathers in his hand to look back at 10K.

Beneath Murphy's drooping eyelids, 10K saw the pain of failure. The sight of it scared him more than anything else that had happened so far. 

Then Murphy hit the floor and went still.

10K stared at Murphy's lifeless form. Then he looked up the stairs at Dean. 

Dean smiled at 10K and shoved the barrel of his gun into the top of his belt. He trotted lightly down the staircase.

"Is he dead?" Asked 10K loudly.

Dean's smile lengthened. "Haven't you ever seen a tranq dart before?"

10K didn't recognize the term. A fire of rage kindled in the pit of his stomach. It rose through his belly and into his chest, burning and strengthening him. He pulled himself across the floor to Murphy's side and pressed down on the small injury with his hands. There was no blood...

"Murphy, wake up..." He muttered in desperation. He pressed the side of his head against Murphy's chest and listened for a pulse. Long seconds ticked by, but 10K didn't hear the familiar thub-dub, thub-dub of a living person's heartbeat. 10K slowly raised his head and stared down at Murphy's closed eyes with an expression of utmost doom. 

"Stop wasting my time," said Dean's voice somewhere over 10K's left shoulder. "I could really do without all this running. I'm not as young as I once was."

10K's jaw clenched. Staring down at Murphy's face, the boy's eyes darkened and his face fell into shadow.

Without warning, 10K reeled sideways and grabbed the broken leg of the chair. In one swift, seamless movement he leaped toward the zombie collector and thrust his elbow back, taking aim at Dean's chest with an animalistic snarl.

Dean looked surprised by the unexpected attack but he dodged sideways. 10K's weapon collided with the stairwell and punched a deep hole through the drywall. Snarling, 10K yanked it back out and swung it around, lunging toward Dean again.

But the electric collar stopped his wild approach like a brick wall.

He groaned and fell back to the floor in a frenzy of violent seizures. Before he knew what was happening Dean had swept down and shoved him onto his stomach. His hands were yanked roughly behind his back and tied with strong cords. Then Dean's knee left 10K's upper back.

Panting, 10K raised his head. But a moment later he was being jerked back to his feet. Dean propped him up and spun him around to hold onto 10K from behind, with one arm around 10K's neck and the other around his middle. 

10K struggled, fighting for breath, but Dean tightened his grip around the boy's throat.

"You almost had me, my boy," panted Dean from behind 10K's ear. "That was close! One second slower and I'd be eating a wooden stake for supper."

10K couldn't speak through the choke hold. He thrust his shoulders side to side, but his attacker was too strong and he couldn't get free.

His muscles screamed for air. For the third time that day, his vision started to blur.

His struggles weakened and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Was this how he was going to die?


	5. Shock Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things a person can't ever fully come back from. If the dam is breached, the flood can take down a city.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Just before the edges of 10K's vision went black, Dean released him from the strangle-hold. 10K experienced a strong sense of deja vu as he slumped to his knees and crashed forward on his stomach, unable to break his own fall. He quickly rolled over and sat up.

Dean stood above him, sweaty and disheveled. "Why did you make me do that to you?"

10K pushed himself backward across the polished floor and got unsteadily to his feet, struggling against his arm bindings. He faced Dean with a defiant posture, squaring his shoulders as best he could. "You didn't have to kill him..."

"Kill...?" Dean paused and a smirk twisted his lips. "Well... I killed him because you failed to cooperate with me, 10K. I thought we had an agreement."

"No," said 10K, shaking his head as he caught his breath. "What you did... it's hopeless now."

"It was always hopeless," said Dean impassively. "The zombie virus was always going to win. I knew that a long time ago, but did anyone listen?"

10K continued to shake his head slowly. His eyes roved over to Murphy, who lay on his back with his head facing away.

He had failed his mission...

Shock made a creeping return and 10K's mind began to disengage. A strange feeling of detachment blanketed his senses. The sounds around him began to fade, and Dean's voice went quiet in 10K's ears as his racing thoughts slowed to a crawl.

Humanity's only hope...

The collector's voice was a faraway echo. "We don't need the Murphy..."

10K didn't look at Dean. He wasn't sure if he had responded... He hadn't heard the sound of his own voice. He needed to argue, to defend the mission, but he couldn't remember how to get the words out. His eyes were on Murphy and his gaze was distant as the seconds ticked by.

He had failed the mission... He had failed Murphy.

10K must have said something, because he heard the collector's voice again.

"Agree to disagree... I have his blood, remember? If the CDC crackpots want what I have, they're more than welcome to march right up to my front door... "

10K's eyes focused a little and his head snapped toward Dean. He saw the man as though through a curtain of water, which slowly thinned until the blurred edges cleared away. "I don't agree to disagree," he croaked when he could look Dean in the eyes. "You're wrong!"

"Look, kid, take some accountability here," Dean admonished him. "I warned you, but you ran anyway. Whatever happened to Murphy is on you, not me."

10K looked back over at Murphy. A feeling of helpless desperation rose through him. He preferred anger or shock, but he couldn't control it.

A tremor ran down his spine and he blinked slowly. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "You killed us all."

Dean was watching the side of 10K's face with a hungry look in his eyes. "Maybe not..." He murmured intently. "You seem pretty damn alive to me..."

10K heard a longing in Dean's voice that made him shiver. He finally looked away from Murphy again and met Dean's eyes, and the yearning he saw there sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins like fire.

"What do you think?" said Dean, delighted at 10K's eye contact. "How should we do this? Since you don't know what to expect I should probably go easy on you."

10K's heart hammered in his chest. He swallowed past a lump in his throat and shifted his weight, uncomfortable under Dean's leering gaze. "Just... just let me go back to my group..."

"What, so they can march back up my front steps and shoot holes in me?" Dean laughed without mirth. "I don't think so. Besides... Your friends are on their way out of town by now."

10K paused his movements. "What?" He demanded cautiously.

"Yeah, I sent them away a few minutes ago," continued Dean with a crooked smile. "They're gone. They left you for dead. Now there's nothing to stop you from coming onboard. Oh - no pun intended."

10K's brows snapped together. He fixed Dean with a worried, accusatory stare. "You're wrong... they wouldn't leave Murphy behind."

"Yet... here we are. And where are they?" Dean raised one eyebrow and folded his arms. "Look at the two of us. What a pair of merries... The only two people left in this God-forsaken town, and we can't even get along."

"You killed Murphy," said 10K, a hint of anger returning. But not just anger; fear. A wave of heat expanded behind his eyes and try as he might, he couldn't stop them from filling with tears. "If you don't kill me... I'll find a way to kill you."

Dean stared at 10K for a moment without speaking. There was a mixture of irritation and amusement on his stubbly face as he regarded his charge. After a minute of prolonged silence, he straightened up and rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers. "I'm not going to kill you, 10K. Not yet."

Suddenly Dean strode forward, closing the distance between them with surprising speed.

Startled, 10K shuffled backward a few steps until the backs of his legs hit the bottom stair.

Then Dean was directly in front of him. 10K tried to step onto the stair but his heel caught the wood and he staggered, almost falling. Dean used that opportunity to grab the shoulder of 10K's shirt and knock him down, hard.

10K hit the stairs sideways. He tried to sit up but Dean was there again, grabbing his shirt and yanking him back to his feet. He threw 10K toward the railing of the balcony and followed at a run.

10K hit the balcony railing and rolled to a stop at its base, just as Dean's boot came rushing toward him.

Dean's kick connected with 10K's ribs and sent him flying back against the railing. Agony shot through 10K's chest and shoulder, but he didn't have time to recover. Dean kicked him again, forcing all the air from his lungs. 10K felt a couple of his ribs crack. Gasping in pain, he rolled onto his other side and raised a knee halfway under him to brace some of his weight. His cheek pressed against the smooth floor as he tried to alleviate some of the pressure, but he couldn't draw a breath through the searing pain.

Dean didn't give him any time. He dragged 10K back to the middle of the balcony by the collar of his shirt, and by that point the only thing 10K could do was fight to breathe. Dean tossed him back down and swooped over him in a loud swish of zombie armor, pinning him to the floor on his stomach.

"Are you ready?" Rasped Dean.

"No - !" Choked 10K. The pain of his broken ribs sent constant shock waves up and down his body and he still couldn't draw any air. "Please, you gotta get off me... my chest..."

But Dean didn't seem to care. He pinned 10K with one hand between the boy's shoulder blades. "Do you have a boo-boo? Sorry, but everyone's got a fucking boo-boo these days. You're ruining this for me!" Dean paused. "Or are you making it better? I can't tell yet." His sinister laugh rang through the room. "I can't wait to show you off. Too bad the Murphy can't turn, or he could've been part of the show, too."

"Don't - don't let me turn," Wheezed 10K. When he coughed, the harsh taste of blood filled his mouth. "You gotta kill me - the right way - "

"The right way is whatever I say it is," snapped Dean. He tweaked the back of 10K's ear. "You're mine now."

10K twisted his shoulders and bucked his hips, sharply twisting his injured body, but Dean held him fast. The zombie collector didn't budge.

10K heard the metallic sound of a belt being unbuckled. The belt clattered to the floor beside 10K's face.

Then Dean reached under 10K's hip and groped him between his legs. The man kneaded him roughly once, twice, then let him go.

"It's my turn now," whispered Dean greedily. "You already had yours."

10K couldn't prevent what happened next.

Dean grabbed the back of his pants and tugged, sliding the black material down over 10K's rear.

"Please..." Heaved 10K fearfully. "P - please..."

But Dean coldly ignored 10K's appeals. Breathing heavily against the back of 10K's neck, he slipped his fingers under the back hem of the boy's boxers and brushed his thumb across the smooth skin beneath.

10K panicked. He threw himself from side to side under Dean's weight like a battering ram, kicking with his legs and straining with his arms. He couldn't breathe, he could barely see - but he kept fighting, blood trickling up his throat.

Something struck the back of 10K's head, knocking him senseless. His chin crashed against the floor and he went limp.

A hand clutched the back of 10K's hair and pulled his face off the floor. Something warm and scratchy pressed against the side of his cheek.

Foggily, 10K allowed Dean turn his head to one side. Dean touched his tongue to 10K's cheekbone and ran it down along his jawline to his bruised chin. Then he pressed his lips against the side of 10K's mouth in an awkward kiss.

10K barely registered what was happening. He started to slip away from his body again as that feeling of detachment overcame him. As though from a great distance, he heard and felt the back of his shirt being ripped open down the middle.

He was floating somewhere quiet and calm once more. He welcomed it gratefully... He almost felt like nothing bad could happen, as long as he stayed here. He could still feel the floor underneath him but the choking feeling was only a distant memory, and the pain belonged to someone else.

"Finally..." Echoed Dean's voice in a far chamber of 10K's mind. "I was worried you would never stop flailing around like a stuck pig..."

10K's eyes rolled back behind his half-closed lids.

"Pull it together, kid... I want you awake for this."

Something hit the side of his head lightly and a groan escaped his lips, but there was barely any pain. Not here... not anymore.

"God damn it! I said open your eyes!"

Dean pressed his groin into the small of 10K's back. Still gripping the boy's hair, he maneuvered himself down 10K's lean body until he could thrust against the boy's backside.

Then he grabbed the elastic hem of 10K's boxers and started pulling them the rest of the way down.

10K's eyelids flew open and his swollen, red eyes locked on the broken chair across the balcony. He could vaguely feel his body being pushed and shoved under heightening pressure, but the pain of his broken ribs was still a long way off.

You can't hurt me... you don't know how to get here...

Suddenly a howl of anger bounced off the walls, and Dean's weight lifted off 10K's back.

.

.

.

Roberta Warren jogged up the stairs with Addy, Doc and Vasquez close behind her. They stayed one behind the other, weapons at the ready as they made their way deeper into the house.

"This way," said Warren at the landing, and they continued up another flight of stairs.

"How do you know where you're going?" Whispered Addy.

"I don't. But I trust my instincts, and you should, too."

They entered a hallway on the third floor and Warren slowed them down. She aimed her gun through each open door that they passed. Halfway down the hall she held up her fist for the others to stop, and tilted her head toward an open doorway ahead. A dull, reddish light shone through it onto the dark wood floor of the hallway.

"You know what they say about the color red," said Doc uneasily.

Warren started to move silently toward the red-lit door. Her knuckles were white around the grip of her gun. "No, I don't know..." She murmured.

"It's a bad sign," Doc provided as he followed Warren. "I read it somewhere, it's an angry color."

"This isn't Woodstock, Doc," said Addy. "Colors don't mean anything."

Warren let out a hushed laugh. "Don't worry, Doc... how much worse could it really get?"

The group stayed close to the walls as they approached the door in question. Warren couldn't see any movement or detect any sounds beyond the door frame, but that didn't mean the room was safe. Only when Warren had cleared the entrance did any of them set foot across the threshold.

The smell hit them first.

Warren wrinkled her nose and covered her mouth with her free hand. Addy gagged silently, and Doc waved a hand in front of his face.

"What the hell?" Mouthed Addy, looking around.

Empty stages stood on either side of them, decorated artistically and well-maintained. Addy sauntered closer to one side and leaned forward, reading some of the plaques. "Plant woman?" She whispered, confused. "Does that mean Phyto?"

"How would a Phyto get this far west?" Wondered Doc, moving over to a different empty platform. "Look here... this one says 'Radiator Man'..."

A look of deep disturbance was growing on Warren's face. Lowering her gun, she set her sights on the tall platform at the end of the row. "What is this? Somebody planning a zombie exhibit?"

Addy had already seen the tallest platform with it's high-backed chair. She made her way up to it, reading the plaque. "A Murphy exhibit," she said darkly.

The others read the signpost in front of the platform where 'The Murphy' was written in big, looping letters. Each of them raised their guns once more and aimed into the gloom on either side of them.

"Murphy?" Hissed Warren, raking the shadows with a sharp gaze, but Murphy didn't respond.

"Hang on... What's this?" Doc bent down and picked up a large, pink poster board. As he read it, his face drained of all color. He slowly looked back up at the others.

"What?" Said Addy.

"What is it?" Echoed Vasquez.

Doc turned the poster board around so all could see. There in glittering letters were the words, 'The Murphy and his Amazing Zombie Boy.'

Silence and dismay fell over the group as they stared at the board in Doc's hands. Addy broke the disturbing quiet.

"Look..." She said, pointing across the floor.

A pile of zombies lay dead on the carpet. There were three or four, and another few zombies were scattered nearby. Warren, Doc, Addy and Vasquez approached the pile cautiously.

Vasquez kicked one of the zombies over onto its back.

"Anyone we know?" Asked Doc nervously.

"Nope..." Vasquez looked closer. "Addy was right, it's a Phyto."

Addy began her own examination, her gun aimed down at the zombies. "What the hell... how did this guy capture a blaster?"

"Make sure they're all dead," ordered Warren in a worried undertone. "Then we find Murphy and 10K and get the hell out of here."

No sooner had she spoken than the loud report of a gunshot ripped through the air. The group looked up toward the ceiling as one.


	6. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break free. After that, it's only a matter of living with the pain. Or dying.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

"You - shot me..." Dean's surprised accusation gurgled in his throat. He lay sprawled on the floor with one knee still draped over 10K's lower legs. The bullet had torn through his stomach, and white foam mixed with blood dripped from his nose.

Murphy swept over him with 10K's handgun aimed down at the man's head. "I told you..." Breathed Murphy. "That I would be there when you died. I told you I would mercy you on your own broken spine..." Disgust dripped from every syllable he spoke.

"You were supposed to be - unconscious for hours - "

Murphy laughed furiously. "I guess a tranq doesn't work as well when you have no BLOOD left in your veins."

"Please don't kill me!" Wailed the collector. He stared up the barrel of the gun in terror. "P - please... bite me...!"

Murphy's face twisted into a chilling smile and he pressed the barrel against Dean's forehead. "You don't deserve a bite from me. You deserve to die... and come back as one of your own star attractions."

Dean shook his head wildly. He spat blood onto the front of his own shirt in his hurry to beg. "N-no! W-we can work something out, you and I..."

"Don't waste your breath. You're worse than a Z, you piece of shit... this world will not miss you."

Dean gaped at Murphy as he worked his jaw. Words seemed to fail him. Then suddenly, he gave howl of despair and threw himself toward his foe.

Murphy and Dean tussled briefly. Dean tried to grab the gun out of Murphy's hands, but Murphy stepped sideways and used the other man's momentum to throw him over his hip. Dean's back hit the railing and he came at Murphy again, but this time Murphy was finished playing games.

He charged Dean as Dean charged him. He rammed his shoulder into the zombie collector's chest, and knocked him backward over the balcony railing.

Dean fell for one, two, almost three seconds... then landed head-first on the marble far below. By the cracking sound his skull made against the floor, Murphy knew his neck had broken instantly. A few short seconds later, the gurgling snarls of a new zombie reached him, and Murphy turned away from the railing in disdain.

10K lay face-down on his stomach. He was only vaguely aware of the coldness of the hard floor against his cheek, or the burning lack of oxygen in his body. Droplets of blood made small pools where his chin rested, trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he made no effort to wipe it away or stem the flow.

His eyes were half-open and unfocused. Every time he tried to draw in a breath, the agony in his chest shot through his body like white-hot knives and paralyzed his efforts.

A dim part of him understood that he was no longer being attacked. Somehow, for some reason, the zombie collector had stopped. But in 10K's state he couldn't even begin to wonder why.

The seconds went by slowly, each trapped in its own eternity of timelessness.

Something hooked around his middle and pulled at him. It slid him over the smooth floor. The room twisted side to side in 10K's vision and he shut his eyes against a fresh storm of searing pain.

There was a rustling sound above him as something began to push back and forth across the cords at his wrists. He felt the bindings come loose and his arms broke free, falling numbly to his sides.

Something turned him slowly over until his upper back came to rest on something soft. His head rolled back, eyes still closed. Then his head and neck was being supported too, gently propped on something beneath him.

The next thing 10K felt was a tug around his upper thighs. Something was being yanked up his legs to his hips. His pants...? He couldn't tell. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't really bring himself to care anymore.

Then there was a hand against his cheek and under his jaw.

He wanted to reject it. He wanted this new torment to end, but he couldn't fight it. His thoughts were jumbled and every fiber of his body screamed for oxygen.

The hands were gone. Something shook him gently, sending ten thousand knives of pain through his listless body. He silently pleaded for it to stop but the shaking got rougher, and little by little some of the fog in his mind began to clear.

A voice reached 10K's ears through his confusion.

"Hey... hey... kid..."

10K listened from faraway.

"Take a breath... breathe now, come on."

10K thought he recognized the voice, but that only added to his confusion.

"Come on!" The voice got louder. "Breathe!"

I'm trying to...

10K tried to suck air into his lungs, but his chest muscles were weak. He couldn't make them work...

The sharp sting of an open palm hit the side of his face. The fog and shadows bled away as 10K started coming back to his senses.

He took a pained, shuddering breath.

"Okay, that's it," said the familiar voice.

But the air made 10K retch. He gagged out a shattering cough that spewed blood down his neck and back down his throat.

Whatever was supporting him tilted him slightly to one side, and the blood trickled out of his mouth instead of into his stomach.

"Come on... stay with me, kid..."

But when 10K tried to breathe again he retched more blood onto the floor. His numb hand clutched tightly around the arm that braced him.

Finally he forced his eyes to open. The room was a blur, but he could see the broken chair from earlier. He could also see the blue arm that circled him from behind. His upper half was being supported by the folded legs of someone's lap.

10K heaved a breath and spattered another lungful of blood onto the floor.

"Christ... you're okay, kid... keep your eyes open..."

10K's arm curled inward against his chest, covering his broken ribs. His torn shirt was warm and wet with his blood, and under his hand he could feel sharp ridges. Even in his condition he knew it was bad.

There was a loud swear, and then blue fingers grabbed 10K's wrist and pushed his hand out of the way. His shirt was being tugged up, exposing his chest, and a string of angry curses followed.

The sound of the familiar voice grew fainter in 10K's ears. 10K wanted to speak; he wanted so much to answer that voice, and see what face it belonged to.

"Good, keep breathing... Breathe, God damn it, I'm getting us out of here..."

When 10K felt himself being lifted off the ground, the pain overwhelmed him and he lost consciousness.

Murphy was still significantly weakened from his loss of blood and repeated electrocutions. He lifted 10K as carefully as possible, one arm under the boy's knees and the other under his shoulders. 10K's arm hung down and his head lolled from side to side as Murphy staggered with him toward the stairs.

When he reached the top of the staircase and turned toward the hall he stumbled to a stop.

Roberta Warren was running down the hallway toward him, and the rest of the group was hot on her heels.

For a moment, Murphy felt faint with relief. He walked forward again and the group met him halfway, encircling him when they reached each other. They stared at Murphy and 10K with looks of disbelief on their faces.

"Nice of you to show up," said Murphy faintly.

Warren reached out to touch 10K's arm. "What's going on? Is he - ?" She began, looking back at Murphy.

"Not yet," panted Murphy, adjusting 10K in his arms. "But I think he's dying. Doc has to take a look at him... He can't breathe."

Doc pushed through the others to the front of the group and leaned close to 10K. He felt for a pulse and after a tense moment of silence, he nodded with a long exhale. "He's still alive. What the hell happened, Murphy?"

"I'll tell you the whole story when we get back to the truck," said Murphy impatiently.

"Where's the son of a bitch that did this?" Demanded Warren, aiming her gun past Murphy down the stairs.

"He's dead," answered Murphy. His muscles were getting more tired the longer he stood there. "I killed him."

Warren stared openly at Murphy's exhausted face. She searched his expression, looking deep in his eyes. But her surprise was only fleeting. "Come on," she said with an arm around Murphy's back. "Give him to Vasquez. It's time to GTFO."

Vasquez hurried forward and Murphy allowed him to lift 10K out of his arms. "Careful," he growled. No sooner had 10K changed hands than Murphy started to sway on his feet. "His lungs are full of blood," he mumbled. His knees gave a violent tremble. "We have to get him to the..."

Warren braced him firmly from the side. "Murphy?"

"I don't... I don't think I can make it..." And without another word, Murphy tipped forward and collapsed.

Warren and Addy caught him before he hit the carpeted hallway floor.

"Is he injured?" Gasped Addy.

"I don't know," groaned Warren, buckling to her knees to support Murphy's weight. "Alright, Doc, Addy... we need to get them to the truck bed. We need a flat surface - come on, help me."

.

.

.

The cavern into which 10K fell was deep and vast. There were images around him in the darkness... pictures of Doc's face, Addy's and Warren's... but there was no sound.

A rush of warm, bright images cascaded around 10K, forming a scene before his eyes.

His father was there. 10K's father stood at the edge of a river, surrounded on all sides by swaying grasses and dancing green leaves. A patchwork of sunlight played across his face as he cast his fishing line across the river, smiling.

10K took a step toward him. Or did he float? He wasn't sure if he had moved his legs... but he was a little closer to his father, none-the-less.

"Alright, Tommy?" Said his father's calm, gentle voice.

"Dad," he said hopefully. Did he say it, though? The words hadn't come from his lips.

But maybe just this once, something good could be real.

"Dad... I had a long dream," said 10K. He wanted to move even closer but now he was stuck in place.

The riverside scene began to shimmer. His father's smile wavered, and suddenly the scene was glimmering away into the darkness.

"No," cried 10K. "Wait!"

But his father and the river faded, leaving 10K alone in the abyss.

10K didn't have time to mourn the loss, because a moment later, Doc stood beside him.

10K turned toward Doc, who threw an arm around 10K's shoulder. The older man noogied him playfully in the gut.

"Doc..." 10K finally smiled a little, and Doc grinned back at him. "I thought I was dying... Was that real?" His words made no sound.

Doc's eyes twinkled at him, but then he took his arm off 10K and his image began to fade.

"Wait!" 10K tried to reach for him but he couldn't move his arms. "Doc - don't go!"

Doc had disappeared just like his father, leaving 10K alone once more.

"Doc...?"

Suddenly 10K saw the dark outline of someone else approaching. It was Murphy. The blue-skinned man strode across the black abyss toward 10K and stopped in front of him.

"You..." said 10K soundlessly. "You're dead..."

Murphy said nothing. He only stared at 10K, his face unreadable in the darkness.

"How are you alive?" 10K tried to ask.

Still, Murphy didn't speak.

10K could see four blurry figures in the shadows behind Murphy. Narrowing his eyes, he saw that it was Warren, Addy, Doc, and Vasquez.

Doc stepped forward and stood beside Murphy, and Warren stepped up to his other side. She wasn't smiling, and neither was Doc.

"You found us," thought 10K with a flood of relief that chased every last vestige of fear from his mind. "You're here..."

Instead of answering, Warren reached out her hand and touched the side of 10K's face. He glanced at her hand, and then back to her face, confused. Why wouldn't any of them speak?

"Where are we?" He tried again, looking at Doc now.

But Doc only watched him with that gentle twinkle in his eyes.

"Why won't any of you say anything?"

Something very strange was happening. The air in the bottomless cavern shrank and flexed against 10K's skin, and the darkness shuddered. Doc, Warren, Addy, Vasquez, and Murphy began to walk backward away from 10K. With a flare of energy 10K tried to follow them, but he couldn't get his legs to work.

"Don't leave!" He said desperately. "Stay! Please stay!"

But the blackness swallowed them up and he couldn't see them anymore.

"Don't go..." Sorrow descended on him like the weight of ten thousand pounds. It pressed in on him from every direction, sucking the hope from his heart and the air from his lungs, and suddenly he realized he couldn't breathe.

The darkness shattered and fragmented into a million pieces all around him.

.

.

.

The first thing 10K became aware of was the heaviness of his body. The pain had lessened, and his shallow breaths felt just a little easier. He focused on his breath with his eyes closed, amazed at how there was no agonizing pain with every inhale. The pain was a dull ache, almost an afterthought.

But then he realized someone was touching his face. Something warm moved along his neck, across his collarbone, and over his shoulders.

Sudden panic gripped him. 10K's eyes flew open blindly and he grabbed the invading hands, trying to push them away. He tried to roll in the opposite direction but something kept him in place, binding him down.

"Doc! Help me!" Cried a frantic voice.

"Stop moving, 10K!" Another voice soothed urgently. "You have to stop or you'll pull out your tube!"

10K barely registered the words. All he knew was that he was being restrained again. "Get - off - !" He choked, thrashing. "Let - me - up!"

"Please lie still, 10K - "

"DOC! GET BACK HERE!"

Suddenly even more hands were holding him down. "Let me go..." He croaked in a voice that cracked with sudden weakness.

"10K! It's us, kid. Can't you see? It's me, look at me!"

10K stopped fighting, but not because he wanted to. He had no strength. With every shallow breath he took his chest gurgled quietly. As he lay still he found his sight and his wits beginning to clear.

He was lying on his back on a scratchy blanket. Another blanket covered the lower half of his body. The raised edges of the cot prevented him from rolling to either side... not restraints. Just a cot...

10K blinked heavily and tried to focus on the faces above him. Red hair swam into distinction, and beside it, fly-away hair, long and white. He knew those faces...

The red hair got closer. "Are you with us?" It asked tensely.

It was Addy's face. And it was Addy who had spoken. 10K stared at her, unsure whether to believe it so soon. He could still be stuck in that strange, dark abyss...

His eyes slid to the fly-away white hair. Doc's hair, and Doc's face. Doc's blue eyes were very worried beneath his drawn brows.

"Doc?" Murmured 10K. A rattling cough shook his chest and he looked back at Addy. "Addy..."

Doc's face split into a smile. "He's back!" He shouted excitedly over his shoulder.

That was when 10K noticed they were in a vehicle, and they were moving. He, Doc and Addy were in the covered back of a big truck, and the road bumped them gently up and down.

"Wh...?" 10K started to say, but he coughed again and turned his head to one side.

"Shh," whispered Addy. "Don't try to talk. Just rest." She wrung out a bloody cloth in a bowl of water beside the cot, and touched it to the side of 10K's temple. She continued washing him clean.

That was what he had felt...

"No," protested 10K weakly. He pushed her hand away again. "Where's... where's Murphy?"

Addy and Doc looked down at him for a moment. Then they moved apart so that 10K could see past them to the other side of the truck.

Across the truck bed, Murphy lay on a second cot on his back. His dark blue eyelids were closed.

Staring at Murphy, 10K felt cold. "Is he dead?" He asked quietly.

Addy looked over at Murphy and shook her head. She smiled down at 10K reassuringly. "No," she answered softly. "He'll be alright."

10K closed his eyes and let out a short breath. For a moment, he didn't want to move, or speak, or hear anything at all.

"Good thing we found you when we did, or you'd be a goner," said Doc's voice.

10K opened his eyes again. He found Doc's face in the blur.

"But you're okay," continued Doc happily. "I told them you were a survivor. No one can deny it now, kid."

10K turned his head to look back over at Murphy. "I thought he was dead," he croaked. Another bout of gurgling coughs hit him, but he tried to speak through it. "I couldn't - hear a heart - heartbeat. I think I - was dead, too..."

"If you were dead you'd have gone Z," admonished Addy gently. She fixed him with a stern look. "Stop talking! Doc fixed something up for you, but if you're too hard on it then it'll break."

10K looked down at himself. A clear piece of plastic tubing protruded from the side of his rib cage, a few inches below his armpit. With every breath he took, a small amount of blood bubbled out through the tube and drained onto a towel beside the cot.

"It's the best I could do," explained Doc, putting a hand on 10K's shoulder. 10K flinched slightly and Doc removed his hand, but remained close. "Got a lot of the blood out of that punctured lung. As your ribs heal we'll take out the tubing and you'll be on your way to recovery."

10K looked away from Doc. Try as he might, he couldn't completely block out the unwanted memories of his recent past. "Just take care of Murphy," he said quietly.

"Murphy's fine," said Doc with a glance to his other patient. "He's resting. No bullet wounds, no stab wounds... somehow there's no blood in his body, but we found this." Doc held up six clear bags full of blood that were attached to Murphy's arms. "They're labeled. I'm hoping once we finish transfusing it, Murphy'll wake up and start complaining again. Louder than ever."

"The zombie collector," said 10K urgently. "He drained Murphy's blood... wanted to put it on ice."

Doc looked disconcerted. "Well... don't worry, kid. El Murphy will be fine, I swear." The man looked confused by 10K's obvious concern. "The mission is still a go."

10K still wouldn't look at Doc. He didn't want them hovering at his bedside... he wasn't the one who mattered to the world. He had thought the mission was over but it wasn't, so they should all leave him alone and focus on Murphy.

"How's your pain?" Asked Doc.

10K didn't answer right away. Now that he was awake, and now that they were finally back with the group, he didn't want to see any of them. He wanted to stay as far away from them as he could so they wouldn't see the look in his eyes. He wanted to run, and never look back.

He never wanted to think about the zombie collector ever, ever again.

"Kid?" Pressed Doc. "How's your pain? I dosed you with some morphine. Actually... a lot of morphine. Probably enough morphine to kill a small dog. Are you feeling any pain?"

10K's eyes shut. He shook his head from side to side, answering no.

"Doc, don't talk to him anymore," said Addy's firm voice. "The less talking he does right now the better."

Addy and Doc went quiet. 10K felt Addy resume her gentle washing of his skin, and he made no move to resist her. He didn't resist because he was sliding back into a heavy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy on the hurt/comfort, just the way I like it! More h/c to come. And more Murphy. (A lot more.)


	7. Run Or Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is denial safer than the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally seven chapters, but it has turned into 8. There was too much content to squeeze it all into one chapter. Enjoy!

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

The next time 10K awoke it was nighttime, and the back of the big truck was quiet and dark. Underneath him, the tires bumped heavily over a gravelly-sounding road. There was no other sound in the truck, front or back. It looked like everyone but Warren was asleep.

Someone had changed 10K out of his soiled clothes and replaced them with clean pants and clean socks under his scratchy blanket. There was some gauzy white material layered at the base of the plastic tube in his side, and several lengths of thick medical tape to keep it in place. Addy must have done all that while 10K slept.

10K stretched his arms gingerly. He could no longer feel his skin being stretched by dried blood, which meant Addy had finished washing him down, too. In hindsight 10K was grateful for her care.

10K licked his dry lips and ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. It hurt to move his arms, but not as much as it should have... the morphine in his system kept the pain at a level 10K could handle; a low, constant presence in the back of his mind. He felt well enough that he started to sit up, but he remembered Addy's warning about being careful with the medical equipment. So instead he craned his neck to look out the side window.

The moon was little more than a fingernail in the night sky. From where he lay, the only landscape 10K could see were the black dunes of the distant desert skyline. The taillights illuminated bushy sage brush and brittle grasses lining the side of the road, and beyond that there was only darkness.

10K relaxed against the cot and the night sky was cut off from view. He turned his head and looked over at Murphy's side of the vehicle. Abruptly, 10K went still.

Murphy's eyes were open. He was staring back at 10K, his face shrouded in darkness.

Neither of them moved or made a sound for a long minute. They looked at each other in silence, the only noise being the whirring tires and the occasional howl of wind gusting through the ripped canvas roof. Asleep on the floor between the two cots, neither Addy nor Doc stirred.

10K couldn't seem to bring himself to look away from Murphy. He couldn't shake the nagging possibility that he could still be stuck somewhere in that strange, dark void where he'd found himself. He knew that was irrational because there had been no pain in that place, but the morphine made it harder to think clearly.

He studied Murphy as closely as he could. Murphy looked like his normal tired self, but it was hard to make out the man's facial expression in the darkness just like it had been in the abyss. The dim ceiling light reflected off Murphy's eyes, and illuminated six empty blood bags that hung from a pole beside him.

Murphy finally spoke in a low whisper, pulling 10K out of his doubts. "So... You're alive."

10K's throat was suddenly very dry. He wasn't back in the dark void, he was awake. And so was Murphy. He swallowed hard and nodded once, then cleared his throat. "So are you," he muttered in a scratchy voice.

"Yeah, if you can call it that," grunted Murphy quietly. "I guess Doc and the others plugged me up pretty good... those bags are empty, anyway."

10K felt a little surreal as he glanced at the empty bags. "Doc said he was transmuting the blood."

"Transmute - ? You mean transfusing?"

10K shrugged gently. "Yeah."

Murphy watched him for another quiet moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Well... thanks for not dying on me, kid."

10K swallowed again and his eyes flickered to the ceiling. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he fell silent again. He didn't know how to respond.

It was Murphy who broke the silence for the second time. "I have some things to say," he said suddenly, keeping his voice hushed.

10K blinked up at the ceiling. He studied the patterns of rusted white paint, and stared at the light bulb. It flickered every so often.

"Hey... kid. Will you look at me?" Urged Murphy.

10K closed his eyes for a brief second, steadying his nerves. Then he turned his head and looked back at Murphy.

"If you hadn't found me, well... I'd probably still be a showpiece in that psychotic little museum," said Murphy as soon as 10K met his eyes. "So... thanks for that, too."

10K felt his heart sink when he realized he had to argue. "I wasn't the one who saved your life," he said reluctantly.

"No," said Murphy, "But If you hadn't found me that crazy motherfucker would still have me. I'd be rotting away in his exhibit hall, alive or dead, I don't know... But without you he wouldn't have fired the shot that led Warren to his building."

10K didn't want to keep arguing with Murphy but his conscience left him no choice. "Warren got you out," he said quietly. "And Doc, and Addy. Vasquez... but I didn't - I almost got you killed."

"Stop talking back to me," said Murphy in a louder voice. "I'm saying thank you, and I don't do that too often. So shut up and let me."

10K went quiet as he regarded Murphy. The man seemed angry and short-tempered, and there was a bullish air to the way he raised his chin.

This probably wasn't an argument that 10K could win.

When 10K didn't say anything more, Murphy went on in a somewhat softer tone. "I have more to say, so just hear me out, okay?"

10K braced himself.

"What happened in there won't happen to you again, kid. This group will make sure of it."

10K's insides turned cold.

Murphy continued, oblivious to 10K's discomfort. "I was never really a team player. But if there was ever a team that took care of each other it's this one. What happened in there... well you don't have to take it with you."

10K didn't have to wonder what prompted Murphy's unsolicited advice. 10K's brain felt like a ticking time bomb, with dark and fearful thoughts in constant battle against the barriers in his mind, and it was all he could do to keep them out. He looked away from Murphy again. His fingers played with the plastic tube in his side and he blinked up at the dark ceiling.

"Don't ignore me," said Murphy insistently. "You might be surprised to find out I actually know what I'm talking about for once. And the others - Addy, Warren... In this fucked up world, they probably do, too."

A shadow of apprehension passed over 10K's face. He jerked his head sideways toward Murphy. "Did you tell them?" He asked in a hurry.

Murphy hesitated, watching 10K across the dark vehicle. Finally he shook his head. "I haven't told them anything. I've been in La La Land for the last hundred miles, just like you."

10K's face relaxed a little and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't care what Murphy thought of his cowardice as long as the other three never found out.

Murphy's brows knitted together and he frowned at 10K. "Look..." He began, but he paused. He cleared his throat tensely before going on. "Prison was no walk in the park. Things happen in prison and there's not a lot you can do about it. You don't trust me... hell, I don't trust me, either, but this time I'm not talking out of my ass. I know you know about the bad things that happen when you hold onto the past."

10K still said nothing, but his silence didn't seem to bother Murphy.

"You better be listening to me. You'll be okay, kid. It has to stay in the past, and you move forward, just like always."

10K's fingernails dug little cuts into the palms of his hands. Move forward, he thought silently. But how fast do I have to run to keep the past behind me?

Murphy kept talking even though 10K wished he wouldn't. He didn't want to think about any of it anymore, let alone talk about it. Knowing that Murphy had seen it all was worse than anything else. It was harder for 10K to block out those thoughts when he knew Murphy was thinking them, too.

"10K?" Pressed Murphy.

"Why are you saying any of this?" Said 10K suddenly. He didn't look away from the ceiling. "We're not friends... we're foxhole buddies."

"Don't start throwing my own words back at me," rumbled Murphy in displeasure. He swung his legs over the side of his cot and sat up in 10K's peripheral vision. "I'm saying it because this time I'm right. Granted, I was a lot older than you when it happened... but I've been pretty damn close to where you are right now." He trailed off, visibly struggling to continue. When he finally found his voice again, it had lost some of its strength. "And that means you're not alone in this."

There was a note of vulnerability in Murphy's tone that surprised 10K. He took his eyes off the ceiling with difficulty and finally looked back over. He and Murphy locked eyes.

"Just hear this," murmured Murphy. "You'll move past it, and you'll go forward. You will because you have to."

.

.

.

The next two days passed in a confusing blur of familiar faces and bandage changes. 10K went in and out of lucidity as Doc dosed and re-dosed him with morphine and other medicines.

Then one morning the pain medicine ran out.

"I'm so sorry, kid," said Doc. He was crouched at the side of 10K's cot. "I wish there was more I could do to help with the pain."

10K's eyelids were heavy and he shook his head at Doc. "It's okay," he said sleepily. "It doesn't hurt too much."

"Not yet..." Muttered Doc anxiously. He turned away from 10K's cot and scooted forward up the aisle. With a glance over his shoulder at his patient, he knocked quietly on the window separating the cab from the back of the truck.

At the wheel, Warren reached back and slid open the glass. "What's up?" She said with her eyes on the road.

Doc leaned halfway through the glass to speak more privately. "Heads up, chief. Try and take it real easy on the potholes... the morphine's dried up and you know what that means. It could get pretty hairy back here."

Warren's nostrils flared when she heard the news and a muscle twitched in her jaw. She looked deeply worried. "We have to make it to our next pit stop before morning or the tank will dry up, too," she said grimly. "I'll do the best I can."

"Thanks," murmured Doc.

Warren nodded tensely and slid the glass window shut. After that, the truck slowed down a little.

It wasn't until later that night when the morphine filtered out of his system that the reality of his circumstances hit 10K like a bag of bricks. By moonrise that night, every small bump in the road was agony, and sharp pains shot like knives through his chest and down his arms. Breathing became a daunting chore that took all of 10K's strength, but he did the best he could to hide his condition from the others.

Whenever the pain overwhelmed him he ground his teeth together and shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep. But the others monitored him closely, and every time they heard his breathing hitch they would stop what they were doing to watch him carefully.

Warren took most of her shifts at the wheel throughout the night, while Addy and Doc stayed in the back with 10K and Murphy. 10K welcomed them; their presence put all future conversations with Murphy on hold.

Addy spent the hours sponging 10K's face with cool water to keep his temperature down, and freshening his bandages. On several occasions, she tried to talk to 10K about what he'd been through, but those talks didn't go very far. 10K could tell from the sad look in Addy's eyes that his refusal to engage with her weighed just as heavily on her as it did on him.

Doc's approach was vastly different from Addy's. Whenever 10K was able, Doc would sit beside his cot telling funny stories and making jokes. He had a way of lightening the mood with just a few words, and more often than not 10K found himself feeling better. When a fresh round of pain would hit 10K, Doc pretended not to notice, and 10K appreciated that most of all.

But in the silences, all 10K could hear was the sound of blood rushing through his ears. During those quiet hours while the rest of the truck was sleeping, 10K sank lower and lower. His guilt and regret was building and feeding on itself until it felt like a blazing fire in his belly. He couldn't let anyone else in. He couldn't live with it if they knew the truth about what happened... if they knew what he had allowed Dean to do to him.

He couldn't talk to anyone about it, not even Murphy. Especially not Murphy...

He didn't even want to look at Murphy...

But Murphy had saved his life. Murphy had stopped the collector's attack, and had gotten 10K out of there. 10K knew things would have gotten much worse than they did if it weren't for Murphy.

But for some reason, he found it harder and harder to accept the fact that Murphy had been there at all. If he hadn't been there to see what happened, 10K wouldn't feel so sick and humiliated...

More irrational thoughts. It would have been so much worse if Murphy didn't stop it, and 10K understood that. He just didn't want to accept it.

Murphy must have sensed 10K's distress, because he didn't pressure the boy to talk again that night.

But between periods of sleep, 10K could feel Murphy's eyes on him in the darkness.


	8. I Love You, Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The right words at the right time make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read this story and provided feedback. Your perspective means a lot to me, and I'm very glad that so many of you have enjoyed it. Your encouragement helped this story all the way to its conclusion.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

The next morning dawned foggy and gray. 10K was secretly awake as the others sat up one by one to greet the gloomy day. Doc and Addy had slept on the floor between the two cots, and it looked like neither Warren nor Vasquez had slept at all.

10K strained to see through the front window without moving his torso. Warren yawned widely at the wheel, shaking her head to stave off fatigue, and said something quietly to Vasquez beside her. Then the truck slowed down, and bumped off the asphalt onto the shoulder of the road. They came to a stop.

10K let his head drop back down when Warren slid open the cab window. He pretended to still be sleeping.

"Alright, kids," said Warren tiredly. "That's Roswell up the road. We need food, bandages, gas and antibiotics, not necessarily in that order. I'm going in on foot and I need back-up."

"Why don't we just drive in?" Grumbled Murphy. He hadn't risen from his cot yet, but lay with one arm draped over his face and the other hanging to the floor.

"Because," answered Warren firmly, "The last thing we need is someone hearing or seeing that we've got a good vehicle. This is the best ride we've had since Mesa Pharmaceuticals and I do NOT want to let go of it just yet."

"I'll go," said Addy immediately. She stretched her arms and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then fondly patted the spiked metal weapon by her side as if to say to her Z-whacker, 'We got this, girl.'

"But aren't you tired, Warren?" Asked Doc with a yawn. "You've been driving all night."

"What's new?" Said Warren dryly. "Don't worry Doc, I'm fine. I can sleep nice and easy once we find everything we need."

"I'll go, too," said Vasquez from the front. "You think that little town will still have any medicine?"

Warren gazed out the window across the flat, dry landscape. The first few rows of houses could be seen on the outskirts of Roswell. "I'm hoping we can find a Mom and Pop pharmacy off the beaten track that looters haven't found before us," she answered under her breath.

"Or a veterinary clinic," Doc chipped in. "Those are really underrated."

"Exactly. Doc, you're staying with Murphy and 10K. Vasquez? Grab those gas cans, and let's make this light work."

"Yep," said Vasquez, opening the passenger door.

"Sure thing," echoed Doc.

Warren slid the first aid kit through the open window to Doc. "There's a third of a roll left so use it on 10K. Those bandages need another change."

"You got it, chief."

With a grateful nod, Warren opened her door and hopped to the ground. She pulled her handgun out of its holster as a precaution, and Vasquez picked up the fuel cans while Addy shouldered the empty duffel. "You know the drill," said Warren to Doc. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Anything happens, just drive. Murphy gets to California in one piece."

Doc saluted her, and watched them walk away.

"We won't be long," called Warren over her shoulder.

The three of them tracked dry footprints across the dusty ground as they headed for Roswell. As soon as the fog obscured them from view, Doc turned back around and shut the window. After a glance at Murphy and 10K, who both appeared to be sleeping, he reached through the cab window to fuss with the radio dial. A second later it turned on.

The static buzzing of empty frequencies was interrupted by short clicks as Doc moved the dial forward and back.

While Doc was distracted, 10K opened his eyes again and looked over at Murphy. Murphy was awake too, and he turned his head when he saw 10K's movement.

10K looked away again, embarrassed.

"How you feeling?" Asked Murphy's gruff voice.

"Better," said 10K without meeting his eyes. A stab of pain and guilt laced its way through his chest.

"Really? Well you look half-dead," Murphy commented dryly, not trying to be funny. "You need to drink water when they offer it."

"I'm not thirsty. It's fine," said 10K. His parched throat made his voice crack.

Doc gave up on the radio with a muttered swear, and turned back around to face them. He sat down on the floor between the two cots and pulled the first aid kit onto his lap. "I didn't know you two were awake," he said with a smile, looking between 10K and Murphy.

Murphy grunted and gave Doc a sour look. "Well, NOW we are. When are you going to give up on that Citizen Z guy, anyway? When was the last time you heard from him?"

"A while," Doc admitted.

"The apocalypse probably chewed him up and spat him out by now," said Murphy with a roll of his eyes.

Doc seemed unperturbed by Murphy's tone. "He's still out there. Somewhere up there, at the top of the world... He made it this far, didn't he?"

"Don't care," grumped Murphy.

Doc shook his head at Murphy in fond disappointment. Then he turned his attention to 10K. "What about you? You doing okay this morning?"

10K answered automatically. "I'm fine."

"Well you're definitely breathing better," murmured Doc, leaning a little closer. "And you're talking a hell of a lot better."

10K nodded his head dully. He wished he hadn't stopped pretending to sleep. Over the last dozen hours he'd been so thankful for Doc's uplifting attitude... but now he couldn't bring himself to feel the usual upsurge of relief for the older man's presence. After Warren, Addy and Vasquez had left, the atmosphere in the van felt too intimate. The attention seemed too intense.

The more he tried to ignore it, the more 10K noticed a strange, unsettled feeling had started to creep through him that had nothing to do with the pain in his chest.

"Warren took the others into town for some supplies," explained Doc when he saw 10K's gaze falter. "She left me to look after the two of you. Here, have some water." He dug a water bottle out of his bag and handed it toward 10K.

10K was about to refuse it, but a glance across the aisle reminded him of Murphy's warning. Rather than evoke another round of well-meaning advice, he took the bottle from Doc and unscrewed the cap.

Doc looked pleased when 10K took a few sips. "That's better. I was starting to worry... not eating, not drinking... I've said it once and I'll say it again - the human body hits a wall. And in your condition, you'd hit pretty damn hard, kid."

10K forced another sip down his throat, trying not to spill it. Then he lowered the bottle and handed it back to Doc. "Thanks," he said, wiping his mouth.

"Don't thank me," said Doc lightly as he shoved the bottle back into his bag. "Just get yourself healed back up. Speaking of that... let's change those bandages." He opened the first aid kit and took out what was left of the gauze.

"No," said 10K quickly. He tried to suppress a sudden surge of irrational anxiety. "It's alright, I don't need it."

Doc paused and looked up from unrolling the gauze. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're still leaking blood, and those ribs look like they'll pop back out of your body any second. Besides - Warren's orders. They might be gone a while."

10K swallowed hard. Suddenly there was a painful lump in his throat that made it a little harder to breathe. He glanced briefly toward Murphy's cot and shook his head at Doc again. "No, Doc... really, I'm fine," he said hoarsely. "Addy can do it - they won't be that long..."

10K gave himself a mental kick. What was wrong with him? What was he thinking? He trusted Doc with his life, just like he always had. But... there was a new, wary instinct coming to life in him that he couldn't seem to ignore. He knew it was absurd to feel that way around Doc but the apprehension had a mind of its own, and no matter what he told himself, it locked him in doubt.

"Don't argue with the doctor," said Doc firmly. "Infection's the last thing you need right now."

"What - what about Murphy?" Said 10K. There was a pleading note in his voice. "He needs water, or medicine... something like that, doesn't he?"

"I am fit as a damn fiddle," interjected Murphy.

Doc watched 10K in mild confusion. "Don't you want fresh bandages, kid?"

10K felt a flare of anger. "No," he answered shortly. "I told you I'm fine."

A real frown creased Doc's normally bright face. "What's the matter, 10K?" He finally asked.

"Nothing's the matter," said 10K tensely. "I just don't need it, okay?"

Murphy glared across the space between them, looking back and forth from Doc to 10K. None of them said anything for a minute.

Then Murphy sat up on his cot and swung his legs to the floor. He scratched the side of his head. "I'll do it," he told Doc. He stood up, hunched under the low ceiling, and crossed the aisle to kneel beside 10K's cot.

"No," growled 10K angrily, which made him cough. A fresh trickle of blood bubbled out through the clear plastic tube and drained onto the blood-stained towel.

Doc sat back and looked at Murphy, concerned and bewildered.

"No," growled 10K again, shaking his head. "I said I'm fine, I don't need it! Wait until Addy - "

"Pipe down," ordered Murphy. "The bandages need to be changed so that's what we're going to do, got it?" His words sounded harsh but there was something gentle in his eyes, and in the blue lines of his forehead.

Murphy took the roll of gauze from Doc and tore off a few long strips. 10K didn't say anything as Murphy accepted the medical tape from Doc.

Without a word, Murphy grasped the tape under 10K's armpit and started to pull it off. 10K stayed still but he ground his teeth together, his eyes snapping up at Doc and Murphy. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and burrow under the truck but he allowed Murphy to ply off the blood-soaked bandages from his injuries.

He hated the feeling of distrust that he couldn't ignore. It didn't make any sense and he didn't understand it.

But he couldn't get rid of it, no matter how hard he tried.

Murphy laid the fresh gauze gently around the tubing and across 10K's ribs. He taped it down, uncharacteristically careful not to cause 10K any further distress. When he was done he straightened up and backed off a little. "There's some left over," he announced, and dropped some extra gauze back into the first aid kit.

Doc had spent the entire ten minutes watching Murphy and 10K like a hawk. When Murphy stood back up and hunched back over toward his cot, Doc held out a hand to stop him. "Hey, Murphy - I need your help with something out back."

Murphy turned a put-upon glare on Doc. He opened his mouth to declare his skepticism, but closed it again when he caught the look in Doc's eye. "Sure..." he said with a grimace. "Why not?"

Doc nodded gratefully. "Thanks," he said with a worried glance at 10K. "Holler if you need anything, kid. We'll only be a couple minutes."

10K's eyes followed Doc and Murphy as the two men made their way to the back of the truck and opened the doors, letting a breeze inside. Doc jumped down, turned to help Murphy, and then looked back at 10K and smiled. But it wasn't his usual lighthearted smile. Then he closed the back doors.

TEN MINUTES LATER...

"Why the hell didn't you say something sooner?!"

"Christ, keep your voice down!"

"Murphy, I swear to God..."

"It wasn't my place to say anything to anyone! And he... didn't want me to."

"Not your - place - ? You zombie-brained idiot, you can't keep something like that from me!"

"Do you want him to hear you?!"

"You idiot... no wonder he doesn't want us near him... I cannot believe you didn't say anything." Doc ran a hand over his face and bent down to brace himself on his knees.

Murphy rubbed both his hands over his stubbly head and looked up at the sky. "The last thing he needs is people looking at him like they know."

"How could I have a damn clue what he needs when you didn't tell me - ?"

"He shouldn't have to think about it right now," interrupted Murphy. "Or hell, ever again - "

Doc straightened up and shoved Murphy against the back of the truck. "Damn it... I knew there was something you weren't telling us. That sick, depraved... who the hell would go and...?" Doc's voice faded as he trailed off.

Murphy stared at him, caught between anger and regret. "I didn't know what to do," he said more quietly.

"You were with him," said Doc. His eyes darted over Murphy's face as he thought out loud. "Maybe you could try to talk to him."

"I've tried a hundred times. He won't talk to me." Murphy rubbed his eyes. It was his turn to look lost and uncertain. "He won't even look at me."

"We have to do something," said Doc helplessly. "We can't just drive off into the sunset, him thinking that's okay, thinking it's normal... That someone else might... that one of US might turn on him..."

"Trust me," muttered Murphy. He kicked angrily at a stone in the road. "He doesn't think it's okay."

"You have to do something."

"Well let me know if you have any bright ideas, won't you?" Snapped Murphy.

"Murphy... God knows I didn't think you had it in you, but you might be the only one he'll listen to right now. There's something between you now, and he won't let me in. So you have to do something about it."

Inside the back of the truck, 10K lay perfectly still. His eyes were fixed on the closed back door and his jaw was clenched. He could hear raised voices outside, and he caught snatches of a heated conversation.

He heard enough to have no doubt they were arguing about him. That knowledge left him feeling hollow and cold. His breathing became slow and deliberate.

He couldn't see a way out of it. Soon, all of them would know what had happened.

10K didn't mind so much if Addy knew; he had a feeling she would look at him no differently. But the others... Warren and Vasquez... what would they think?

There was a loud click and the back doors swung open. Another cool breeze blew in and ruffled the blanket and 10K's hair. 10K watched as Doc clambered back into the truck bed with Murphy close behind him.

Doc's face was shiny and his neck was red; it looked like he had just run a fifty-yard sprint. 10K didn't say anything as Doc and Murphy left the back doors open and made their way toward the front. He didn't say anything as they settled themselves into their former places - Doc sat with his back to the cab and Murphy lowered himself onto his cot - and he said nothing when he saw that Doc was out of breath.

Both Doc and Murphy were quiet, too. It was easily the most painful silence 10K had ever experienced, and it seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

After what felt like an hour of holding his breath, 10K heard Doc exhale loudly. He turned a slow stare on his good friend and waited for him to speak.

"Listen, kid..." Began Doc. He reached over and put his hand on the edge of 10K's cot. "You didn't do anything wrong."

A falling sensation forced 10K to close his eyes for a moment. His chest hitched and he blinked a few times.

Doc scooted closer to his cot. "I'll never let something like that happen ever again. You have to believe me, kid."

10K cast numbly in his mind for something to say in response. But all he could see in his mind's eye was an expression of disgust on Warren's face. An involuntary shudder wracked his body.

Doc saw, and his hand neared 10K's shoulder. He looked like he wanted to touch him, but he wasn't sure if he should. "You can trust me, 10K," said Doc in a voice that wavered. "I love you, kid."

In the wake of Doc's words, 10K felt a wall beginning to crumble inside his head. He tried to keep it in place, but he couldn't hold onto it. And the realization hit him that he didn't even want to... because he knew Doc was telling the truth. The backs of his eyes burned with held-back tears as he slowly turned his head. "Don't tell the others," he whispered.

Doc looked immensely relieved to hear 10K's voice. He nodded his head quickly. "I promise. Not a word. If you ever decide to tell them, that's yours to choose, but I won't - we won't say anything to anyone."

A tear escaped and slid down 10K's cheek. His eyes flickered over to Murphy.

"I won't tell them either," said Murphy, prompted by 10K's pleading gaze. "Hand to God, not a word. But kid, you have to know... what Doc said, what I said the other day... that's the truth, and the truth matters."

"Murphy's right," said Doc, nodding again. "This group has your back. You can count on us, 10K."

10K held onto their words like a lifeline. Instead of the all-consuming, inescapable humiliation he had thought would overcome him if anyone else knew, a wave of calm began to drape over him like a warm blanket. When another tear fell down his cheek he wiped it away, and took as deep a breath as he could. The uneasy feeling was fading away, replaced by tired resignation, and his head gave a small nod.

Doc's own eyes shone with carefully controlled emotion. "Do you... d'you need some time alone?" He asked quietly.

When 10K didn't answer right away, Doc made to stand. But 10K's hand closed around Doc's wrist before he even knew what he was doing. "Wait," he said under his breath. "You could stay."

Doc's fingers covered 10K's hand and he sank back to the floor. "Okay," he answered softly, and he didn't say anything else. He didn't move from that spot and 10K didn't let go of his arm. They stayed that way until 10K drifted off to sleep; the first real sleep he'd gotten in more than two days.

When 10K's fingers loosened around Doc's wrist, Doc gently lifted 10K's arm and rested it back on the cot. He stared at 10K's sleeping face for a long moment, and then he pulled the wool blanket up 10K's chest to cover his bandages. He gently pushed some hair away from 10K's forehead. "You're going to be okay, kid..." His voice was almost too quiet for Murphy to hear. "You're a survivor."


End file.
